The Call of Destiny
by MegWithAMouth
Summary: As Hawke and Isabela take to the seas after the events of Dragon Age 2, an unforeseen danger soon crosses their path, forcing Isabela to choose between her life and her love, while Hawke must decide how far he's willing to go to save her.
1. Chapter 1

The wind howled around the ship as it blew the waves into a frenzy that beat relentlessly upon the vessel. Rain poured onto the deck in a rhythmic pitter-patter that was broken only by the frequent claps of thunder. Great flashes of lightning followed without fail, lighting up even the darkest cabins buried in the belly of the ship.

Hawke stared up at the ceiling as it was illuminated briefly and watched as it was enveloped by darkness once more. Even after months on the ship, he still couldn't understand how Isabela could sleep so peacefully while the world around them rocked about. Sighing to himself as he realized this would be another sleepless night, he glanced at the pirate queen that adorned the space beside him. He chuckled softly as he brushed the hair out of her face.

Isabela was never more at home than she was here - and it showed. She lay on her stomach, the blanket just barely covering the curves of her naked ass. Her face glowed with contentment even as she slept and Hawke couldn't help but wonder what she was dreaming, though a second thought made him realize he was probably better off not knowing.

He ran his fingers down her back and softly kissed her shoulder. Her body arched briefly as his facial hair skimmed her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. As he pulled away, his hand slid the blanket over her, which she promptly snuggled into. Giving up all pretenses of sleep, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Leaning forward, he ruffled his hair slightly and looked out the darkened window before him. He grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around himself as he stood and approached the storm beyond the glass. Even though he tried not to think about it, Hawke couldn't help but relive the past decade and the events that had forced him and Isabela to flee the home they had made in Kirkwall.

He thought of Varric and Aveline. Aside from Isabela, they were the closest friends he had. It felt strange to be separated from them after everything they had faced together. He knew things were better for them this way though. Ever since the war between the mages and Templars had broken out, things had gone to hell… and "the Champion" was at the very heart of it all. Not only had he taken sides in the first battle, but one of his companions had initiated the entire thing. Anders… Even now Hawke felt guilty for how things had turned out, as if he could have foreseen it and stopped it all from happening. He couldn't help but think that many lives could have been saved… including Anders'.

Before his thoughts could linger on the topic any longer, he was interrupted by a tired yet sultry voice.

"If you brood out that window any longer, I'm going to start calling you Fenris," Isabela said with a smirk.

Hawke laughed as he turned his head toward her. "So now you want to role play, do you?" he responded, matching her expression.

"Ooh. Why haven't we thought of that before?" she cooed.

The covers slid from her as she stood and strolled over to him. Hawke could only shake his head in amusement - and amazement. She parted the blanket and ducked under his arms, turning so that she could look out the window with him. His strong arms rested around her slender neck as he pulled the blanket around them both.

"So, if I might shock you with a serious question…" she held his arm with both hands, stroking the hair on it with her nails as she continued. "What's going on in that head of yours? I didn't think you could possibly stay awake after that little romp of ours earlier. Maybe I'm giving myself too much credit… Oh, who am I kidding? That was _fantastic_. I thought you'd be passed out until midday tomorrow at least..."

"I love it when you get serious," Hawke interrupted sarcastically.

"Oh, do shut up," she said with a shake of her head. "You know what I'm trying to say. Besides, you can't blame a girl for getting hung up on sex like _that_."

Hawke laughed under his breath and kissed the top of her head. They'd been together for years now and still she struggled with these serious talks. He couldn't help but love her for it.

"Sorry, love," he replied. "You know I haven't gotten used to the rocking of this boat-"

"_Ship_," she interrupted. "A _boat _is something you pour gravy out of."

"_Ship_," he continued. "I don't understand how you sleep at all, let alone through this typhoon."

Isabela sighed as she tilted her head back and rested it against his chest. "A little rain does not make a typhoon, you big baby," she said. "More to the point, you've been sleeping well enough these past couple of weeks. Why the sudden restlessness?"

He nuzzled his cheek against her hair, breathing in her scent as he thought about the answer to her question.

"I was thinking about Anders," he finally admitted.

Isabela bit her lip. "You're not still feeling guilty, are you?" she asked. "I thought you'd moved past that."

"I have - for the most part," he said. "That doesn't mean it doesn't affect me. He was our _friend_..."

She nodded in response. They'd spoken of Anders and everything that had happened enough times for Isabela to know that nothing she said could bring him comfort. Instead, she let him be. They stood silent, but her presence was all Hawke really needed at the moment. She knew that. They watched the waves toss them about for a while before he interrupted the quiet that had surrounded them.

"If I'm honest, the real reason I can't sleep is... well..." he paused as he tried to suppress a smile.

"What?" she asked cautiously, trying to read his face from the corner of her eye.

"I miss that little dwarf and his absurd amount of chest hair," he said with a grin.

Isabela laughed. "Mmm, Varric. You're lucky you won me over when you did, you know," she joked. "If you'd waited much longer I would have been with that paragon of manliness instead. I finally would've had my way with Bianca too."

"I don't understand how either of you can be turned on by a crossbow," Hawke laughed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Have we met?"

"Right. I forgot who I was talking to for a moment," he teased.

Isabela giggled. "You know who _I_ miss?" she asked.

"If you say Fenris I'm going to lock you in the brig," he taunted.

"I thought we only did that on Tuesdays?" she said with a smile.

Hawke rolled his eyes. "You're incorrigible."

"You love it, kitten. Now do you want to know who I miss or not?" she asked impatiently.

"Yes, yes, go on then," he replied.

"I never thought I'd say it, but that ginger-haired, battering ram of a woman has really left a void," she said. "Who would have thought I'd miss that big girl telling me to 'shut up' all of the time?"

He couldn't help but laugh as he saw at her pouty expression reflected in the window. "We'll see them soon enough," he said as he hugged her tighter. "And just think of all the insults Aveline will have stockpiled for you while we've been away. You know how she loves to practice them."

Isabela turned to face him as she snickered to herself. "She really does, doesn't she?"

"Mmhmm," he replied, suddenly distracted from their conversation by the feel of her body pressed against his.

Letting the blanket drop, he ran his fingers down her spine, leaving a ticklish trail that caused her to bend into him. A chill ran through them both as the frigid air mingled with their now exposed skin. He let his eyes take in the sight of her body. It was a sight he should have been used to, but he still found his breath caught in his throat every time he saw her.

"Who knew talking about Aveline would get you so frisky?" she joked as her nimble fingers outlined the muscles on his stomach.

"I think you know better than that," he said wryly.

Slowly he shuffled her backward until she was pressed against the window. She gasped as the icy glass met with her bare skin.

"Of course," she responded, her brows furrowing together in a serious expression. "It _was_ Varric keeping you… _up_, after all." She smiled coyly as she pressed her hips against his, forcing a moan out of him.

Hawke cleared his throat and assumed a smug expression, narrowing his eyes at her. "You are an evil woman," he whispered.

"Mmm. Maybe you should spank me then," she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear as she spoke.

He pulled his head away just long enough to look at her face. The smile she wore wasn't one anyone else was privy to. It was an expression she saved solely for him. It was full of promises for the future, and love - though you'd rarely hear her talk outwardly of either. Hawke knew that look all too well by now, but he still found nothing in the world more seductive.

With a devilish grin, his hand smacked the supple skin of her backside and Isabela let out a tickled yelp. He moved his lips to hers as the longing overwhelmed them. His hands meandered up and down her body, exploring every inch as they went. She moaned, wrapping her legs around him as he lifted her against the glass. It was then that the world around them ceased to exist. The storm, all but forgotten in that moment, took the opportunity to streak the sky with lightning, silhouetting the shape of them pressed together as one.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight streamed through the windows of the captain's quarters and roused Isabela the next morning. Slowly she peaked through her lids, but the bright light forced her to squeeze them shut again. She didn't need more than that fleeting glance to notice that the rain had stopped and the sun was shining though. An excitement grew inside her as she reveled in how much she loved the clear days that followed a storm. The sky seemed brighter and the sea clearer. They contrasted such brilliant blues that it almost hurt your eyes. And the smell… a mix of rain and seawater mingling together. There was little else that compared to days like this for Isabela.

Keeping her eyes shut, she soaked up the warmth of the sun as it poured on her. She started to stretch when a burning in all of her muscles forced a grunt out of her instead. For the first time since waking she opened her eyes fully and took notice of her surroundings. Immediately her face lit up with amusement.

"Shit," she groaned.

For reasons Isabela couldn't fully recall, they were in the bed upside down and sideways. The blankets that usually shrouded the mattress were strewn about the floor. Her left wrist still had Hawke's Hindsight belt tied loosely around it. As she looked down, she noticed that Hawke's upper body was resting on her stomach with his arms hugging her torso as his head used her breasts for a pillow.

"Well how comfy for you_,"_ she said with a roll of her eyes.

As she rolled him beside her, she caught sight of his face and instantly began laughing. Her bandana was tied around his head in a makeshift blindfold. Hawke stirred at the sound of her voice as he slowly began to awaken. Suddenly, without warning, his head shot up and darted from side to side.

"Isabela?" he asked frantically, but this only sent Isabela into an even deeper fit of laughter.

His hands moved in front of his face as if testing his vision. Finally feeling sorry enough to help him, she spread his hands aside as she moved in close to his face. Her fingers traced his jawline until they met with the blindfold, at which point she pulled it up onto his forehead. At last able to see, he focused on her face and watched as her smile grew. It only took a second for the realization of what had just occurred to hit him. An embarrassed expression overcame him as they both began to laugh hysterically.

"You're still drunk, aren't you?" she accused. "This is why I never let you have the good stuff!"

Hawke rubbed his fingers across his brow, chuckling self-consciously. As Isabela watched him, she pursed her lips, struggling to pull herself together.

"I'm not…" he trailed off. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, inhaling deeply as he fell back on the bed.

Isabela crawled on top of him and rested her chin on his chest, the delight she wore unmistakable. He opened his eyes and looked down at her, shutting them once more when they were met by her fierce gaze.

"This is your influence at work," he said lightheartedly, the edges of his mouth pulling up into a grin as he wrapped his arms around her.

A satisfied giggle that could belong to no one else escaped her lips.

"Blame me if you want," she replied. "I didn't make you drink the whole bottle."

Hawke groaned at the thought of whiskey and shielded his eyes from the sunlight that was slowly burning through his closed lids. A lump caught in his throat and the hand that was resting on Isabela's back clenched against her skin as he tried to swallow it down. Understanding the misery of a hangover all too well, she frowned as she watched him grimace in pain.

She had spent the past decade getting to know this man. She could read every line in his face, every inflection in the words he spoke, even the most subtle gestures of his body, which Hawke himself would be hard pressed to find meaning in, were as easy for her to read as any map. These facts both comforted and terrified her.

Before Hawke, she had nothing to love, which meant she had nothing to lose. Her ship was the only thing she had cherished and even that was replaceable. With him, though, she suddenly had this massive piece of her heart existing outside of her body. She couldn't keep him locked safely inside of her. He was in the world, part of the world, exploring every inch of it and putting his own life at risk for the benefit of others at every turn. The mere thought of losing him was so painful and petrifying that she had to fight the urge to flee at every waking moment for the first half of their relationship. After years of keeping him at arm's length, however, she found that the only thing more impossible than staying with him was leaving.

So here she was, staring at the man she loved as he fought with a hangover that was, admittedly, partially her fault. Even pain this minor in the eyes of her Champion was something she felt the need to fix… and she was determined to do just that.

"I'll be right back," she said softly, kissing his chest before gently getting up. "Don't move."

"If you insist," he groaned.

"_Always the smartass_," she thought to herself with a grin.

As she approached her dresser, Isabela removed Hawke's belt from her wrist, rubbing the raw skin lightly. She smiled as images of the night before rushed back to her and momentarily caused her to forget what she was doing. When she finally snapped back to the present, she shook the lovely distraction from her mind, filing it away for another time and began to dress. Hurriedly, she pulled on a pair of black pants and a tight white v-cut blouse. She tied her hair back with a black bandana before stepping into and lacing up a pair of knee high boots. She glanced at Hawke once more, who hadn't moved an inch, before stepping out the door.

As much as she yearned to go above deck and bask in the sun that had been hiding from them for so long, she ignored her own desires and walked straight to the galley. As she entered, the few crewmen who were already there eating breakfast looked up at her with amused expressions.

"Sleep well, captain?" one of them chuckled.

"Like a top," she said, continuing her stride for the kitchen.

The men snickered as one of them added, "Sounded like Hawke was spinning you like one, at least."

"We do what we can for morale around here," she replied with a smirk. "Now mind your own before your captain thinks you haven't enough to do around here."

"Aye aye, captain," they replied, still laughing.

The ship's cook saw her coming and was already making up two plates as she rounded the bar that separated the kitchen from the dining area. She hopped up on the counter beside the stove and picked up a strip of bacon off the plate beside her.

"Morning, Eggs," she said cheerfully.

"Bela," he replied with a nod.

The man at the stove turned slightly. He was an older man, obviously better suited for tasks like cooking than swabbing decks in his current state. Years of hard labor were written on his face, but his eyes were like the sea, brilliant and blue. Isabela had always had a soft spot for him. She thought of him as a sort of father figure. That's why he was the only member of her crew that was allowed to call her anything but "captain".

"I figured you'd be needing this," he said as he flashed her a smile.

He lifted the plates he had just finished filling and turned to hand them to her.

"I'm not the one in need of a greasy breakfast for once, if you can imagine that," she replied smugly.

"Ah, you're a bad influence on that boy," he scolded playfully.

"He loves it," Isabela said, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

Eggs pointed at her as he spoke. "So do you, puppet."

"Okay," she slid off the counter as she responded. "Don't get all mushy on me, you old seadog. It's too early."

Eggs laughed at her dismissal.

"Off you go then," he commanded. "You don't want to leave Eagle on his own in such a right state for too long."

"_Hawke_," she told him. "His bloody name is Hawke!"

He waved her off as she chuckled at his blunder.

"Oh, what's the difference?" he challenged. "Go on now. You have better things to do than pester me all morning… captain."

She knew he added that last bit to placate her… and it worked. He scarcely ever called her that. She watched as he turned back to his cooking.

"See you later, Eggs," she said as she sauntered out, plates in hand.

She walked back to her quarters and was surprised to find Hawke exactly where she had left him. Rarely did he ever listen to her, especially when defying her would be some sort of show of masculinity. He really must not have been feeling well.

"Feeling any better?" she asked brightly.

"Well… I haven't been sick while you were away," he said, his voice hoarse. "I think there's an abomination trying to kick through my skull now though. I'm not sure you can call that an improvement."

Isabela couldn't withhold a smile. "That… doesn't sound fun," she replied.

She set her plate on the desk and walked over to the bed with Hawke's in hand. She scooted his legs so that she could sit on the edge of the bed beside him.

"I've brought you something to eat," she told him.

Hawke moaned at the mention of food.

"Stop being a child," she said. "This will help. If anyone knows, it's me."

He took a deep breath before responding. "Fine," he exhaled as he removed the bandana he was covering his eyes with. "Let's have it."

Slowly he opened his eyes and moved into a half-sitting position. As Isabela began to feed him, an amused expression came over his face. She scowled at him.

"Don't get used to this," she informed him.

Hawke only responded with a chuckle. He knew better than to push her buttons, especially when he was feeling this awful.

After he had eaten a little bit, he laid back down. The pain in his head was nearly gone, but his eyes still burned and his stomach wasn't completely settled. He tried to convince Isabela he was feeling better when she asked how he felt, but she saw right through him. He was just a mage after all. He wasn't cunning enough to lie well.

"Rest here for a while," she told him. "We won't be docking at Llomerryn for at least a few days."

"Then maybe you should stay," he suggested.

He ran his hand down her arm, surprising her as he began to shoot tiny blue sparks from his fingertips, sending a tingling sensation throughout her body. It wasn't unpleasant in the least.

"Mmm," she moaned. "Using the electricity thing… That's not fair…" Taking a deep breath before continuing she added, "I have a ship to run... And you need to rest."

Hawke nodded and the throbbing in his head returned tenfold. The pain must have been written on his face because Isabela grabbed the wet towel she'd retrieved from the galley when she went to get their food. Gently she placed it on his forehead and over his eyes.

"Sleep doesn't sound like such a terrible idea, after all," he said as he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips.

Isabela let her fingers rub the stubble along his jawline before leaning in to kiss him briefly.

As she lifted her face from his she said, "I suppose the next time I suggest we have a few drinks to help you sleep, you'll-"

"Drink the whole bottle? Never, ever again," he interrupted.

Amusement colored her face as she nodded.

"Good choice," she agreed. "Now get some rest."

And with that she headed out the door and out of his sight. It was silly of her to worry about him over something as trivial as this. She knew that, but still she couldn't help it. Luckily, being the captain of a ship served as a useful distraction in times like this. As she emerged on deck and the sunlight poured over her body, she was reminded of why she was there, and any worries she had seemed to slip away. She closed her eyes and basked in the sounds and the smells of the sea as her lieutenant approached her.

"She's lookin' shipshape, captain," he said happily.

"She is indeed," Isabela agreed, opening her eyes.

"We've untied everything that was battened down for the storm. We just await a heading now, captain. Onward to Llomerryn?" he asked.

"Full speed ahead, lieutenant," she replied.

A devilish smile crept onto her face as she thought of what lay ahead of them and she added, "Let's see what trouble we can get into, shall we?"


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Sorry this chapter took a bit longer to upload. I had a massive case of writer's block and didn't seem to like anything I wrote. I hope you all enjoy it, at least. =)_

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A scream so close it chilled his blood yet so far he could barely hear it filled his ears. It was an awful, muffled sound that he couldn't seem to reach. He turned in circles trying to find the source and when he stopped, the world kept turning until it eventually screeched to a halt, throwing him to the ground. Shaken, but unscathed, he rose to his knees… and that's when he noticed his hands.

Blood was everywhere. Hot and sticky, uniform in every way, yet somehow he knew that it was _hers_. Everything in the world stopped at the sight of it and his breath caught in his throat.

"Isabela…" he breathed her name so softly that it was barely audible even to himself.

Before he could rise, he was bathed in shadow and everything went dark.

Hawke jolted awake, crying out as he jerked into a sitting position. His body was covered in sweat and his skin clung to the bare mattress. Exhaling deeply, he rubbed his hand over his face as he reminded himself that it had just been a nightmare. Persuading himself of that, however, was harder than it should have been.

"_It didn't feel like a nightmare_," he thought. "_That felt… too real_."

He fell back on the bed and reached his arm out, feeling the spot where Isabela usually laid. Dream or not, the knots in his stomach would not go away, and he was convinced they would remain until he saw her.

Immediately he rose from bed and dressed himself, pulling on a pair of dark grey pants and a white shirt. He paused as he passed Isabela's desk and ran his fingers across her papers and maps. Elegant loops and curves had flowed from her nimble fingers, staining the page with handwriting that reflected the writer's body. Recently, she had started teaching him how to read nautical charts and plot courses, but the process was slow going. Even though he was far from being a star pupil, she had remained patient and enthusiastic about the process. The intersection of her two great loves was something that excited her. It was also something that she couldn't hide, no matter how she tried.

As his fingers outlined her letters, he accidentally moved the map that lay beneath the piles of paper and it fell off the edge of the desk. He moved to pick it up when his eyes caught sight of markings on the back. Upon turning it over, he saw a drawing of himself done with great thought and care. Every line, every scar had been painfully recreated in this picture. He knew Isabela was proficient with lewd sketches, but he had no idea just how incredibly talented she was. He wondered when she had done this and if there were more like it.

With thoughts of her on his mind, the nightmare from moments before enveloped him once more and his urgency grew as he turned and left the room. Hurried feet took him up and out onto the deck. As the light hit him, however, his eyes shut tight and he turned away from the sun. His hangover reminded him that it hadn't left yet as the dull ache that had resided behind his eyes turned into a burning throb. Muttering about the evils of whiskey, he lifted his hand to block the daylight and slowly opened his eyes.

"There's no way you're _still_ drunk," a mellifluous voice chimed.

Hawke felt a flutter in his stomach as he took in the sight of the woman standing before him. A pair of honey eyes burned hotter than the sun as they met his. Her dark, windswept hair was held back loosely with a black bandana, though a few tendrils hung freely down her face. Sweat glistened on her body, giving her tea colored skin the illusion of glowing. Craving the feel of her body against his, Hawke tangled his hand in her hair and stepped into her, using his other hand to pull her close to him as their lips collided.

Isabela was caught off guard by this spontaneous gesture, but it took only a moment for her to respond in full. When he finally pulled away, his hand moved to her face. His fingers navigated her subtle laugh lines, tracing the only map he would ever know by heart. Her brows rose in concern.

"What's this about?" she asked curiously.

Hawke let his hands drop to her hips, his gaze following. "It's nothing. I just had a nightmare," he said as he met her stare once more.

"You've had nightmares before and never acted like this," she responded, clearly not convinced by his nonchalance.

He forced a smile as he turned and headed toward the starboard side of the ship. Isabela followed apprehensively. As they reached the edge, Hawke leaned against the rail and stared out at the brilliant expanse of blue that kept them afloat.

"Do you ever wonder why those mages in Kirkwall were so quick to turn to blood magic?" he asked.

Not grasping the connection, her eyebrow rose in confusion. She worried about whatever was going on in his head, but trusted him enough to believe he wasn't shutting her out. She leaned against the rail beside him as her mouth opened in response.

"Sure, I've thought about it," she said. Her eyes moved from the waves lapping at her ship to the man beside her.

"And?" The word fell from his mouth without a hint of emotion. He was impossible to read.

"They were fighting for their lives," she replied. "People will do anything to survive."

His head shook slightly. "Not me," he said. "If it came down to dying or turning to blood magic or…" he trailed off before he finished his thought.

Isabela turned fully toward him, concern shrouding her face as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. One of her hands rose to his face and turned his focus on her. "Hawke…" she started.

He reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling it to his lips as he lightly brushed them against her palm. He focused on her once more as he spoke. "I wouldn't do it for my own life…" Hesitation registered on his face as he continued. "…but there's nothing I _wouldn't_ do for yours."

Isabela's mouth fell open as she fumbled with a response. She knew how strongly he felt against using blood magic yet he had just admitted that he was willing to become what he hated in order to keep her safe.

"I wouldn't want you to do that," was all she could say.

Hawke's expression lightened as he saw how much she struggled to find words. "Well, in all likelihood, you'll be the one saving my ass anyway," he said in an attempt to lift the mood.

Her mouth curved into a slight smile, but her eyes held their concern. "At least you've got that much right," she said smugly. "What made you think about this?"

"I couldn't find you," he said, deep in thought. "In my dream, I mean… I couldn't find you. I could hear you screaming, but I couldn't get to you. I couldn't save you. And then your blood… It was everywhere." He clenched his jaw as he looked away from her.

Not for the first time, Isabela realized the extent of his love for her as she watched him struggle with the memory of his nightmare. She closed the distance between them and forced him to look at her. Her heart broke as she saw that his eyes glistened with tears he wouldn't allow himself to spill. This was unlike him and it worried her.

She pulled his head down and grazed her lips against his, whispering a phrase she had said only once before to him. He didn't need to hear it to know it was true, but for some reason, she felt the need to say it just then. Hawke kissed her forehead, repeating the same phrase in response.

For a while, they stood together, not saying anything, just staring out at the horizon as the sun began to set. It wasn't long before Hawke broke the silence.

"It didn't feel like a dream," he finally admitted.

"I imagine not," she agreed.

He shook his head. "No," he said. "You don't understand. It didn't feel like I was dreaming. It sounds crazy, but it felt like a warning."

"A warning?" she asked. "From who?"

"I don't know," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe I've finally gone mad."

Isabela sensed an opportunity for some levity. "You survived a blight, quelled a Qunari invasion and fought at the heart of the templar/mage war, yet living with me is what did you in? I didn't think I was _that_ hard to live with."

Hawke chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I don't know," he retorted. "Living with such a beautiful woman… It can be _so_ unbearable sometimes." The sarcasm in his voice was palpable.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she replied with a smile. "Feel free to continue."

"I'm not sure stroking your ego any more would be healthy for either of us," he said lightheartedly.

"Ooh, say 'stroking' again," she requested playfully.

The edges of his mouth pulled up in a smile as he shook his head. Even though he was beginning to look more like himself, concern still colored his features.

Isabela pinched the fabric of his shirt between her fingers and looked up at him. "We're going to be okay, you know." She released the cloth and watched as it clung to him, much like she did. "We didn't survive everything we have to be torn apart now."

"I know," he responded, pausing before continuing. "Let's try to keep a low profile on Llomerryn anyway… just in case."

Isabela snickered. "Me? A low profile? Surely you must be joking."

Hawke snorted, but his expression remained serious. The look on his face was enough to get her to revise her response.

"Okay, okay," she said. "We'll be…. discrete." She spit out the last word as if it were bitter.

Hawke smiled at her effort as he rested his hand on the railing once more. He let go of her waist as she moved beside him, turning to survey her crew as they went about their duties. An indentation in the wood caught his attention as his hands moved against the grain causing him to inspect it further. One of the sailors, or Isabela, had carved a vulgar picture in the wood. Immediately he remembered the drawing he'd discovered earlier.

"I saw the picture you drew on the back of the map of the Amaranthine Ocean," he confessed.

Shock registered on her face, but it was quickly replaced with embarrassment. "I thought I'd hidden that better," she said, looking away from him as she leaned over the rail.

"Why didn't you ever show me before?" he asked.

Isabela shrugged. "I didn't think it was important," she said casually.

His eyes peered through her façade. "Not important? It was incredible."

A sigh escaped her lips as the evidence of her discomfort grew more apparent. "Let's not dwell on it," she told him.

His head lowered as he tried to catch her gaze. "You deserve more praise than you allow."

"Hawke…" she said as she closed her eyes in exasperation. A protest rested on her tongue that she prepared to hurl at him, but he interrupted her as his hand turned her face toward his. His eyes said everything as they met hers, and for a moment, they were silent and still. As the sun set behind them, the wind that swept over the ocean's edge grew colder. The only warmth they found was in one another, their hot breath mingling with the frigid air as they kissed.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I'd just like to thank everyone for all the positive feedback I've been getting on this story. I never expected it and it's been the best kind of motivation to continue work on it. =)_

_That said, I realize this chapter is shorter than the others. I was inspired after finishing Spartacus: Blood and Sand and wrote it all in one sitting. I think it sets things up nicely though. I hope you all enjoy it!  
_

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Days passed before Isabela's ship finally reached the shores of Llomerryn. It was not a place where common men visited for pleasure. The island that graced the southern tip of Rivain had become a refuge for the immoral and fugitives alike. It was said that anyone could attain their "heart's desire" in the markets of this dissolute destination, though the price of such could often cost more than the buyer was willing to pay. Even so, business boomed in the region as souls were traded for trinkets and men parted with their own hearts in order to obtain the promise of a "better life".

As Hawke's feet met solid ground for the first time in over a month, the smell of wet sand and blood overwhelmed his senses. Isabela soon found a place at his side and, upon smelling the foul stench, wretched as she struggled to obtain unsoiled air. Hawke rubbed her back, but before he even had time to worry, she rose once more, looking no worse for the wear.

"Ah, it's so good to be home," she said with a sigh, an edge of sarcasm in her voice. With that she marched forward, leaving Hawke, and the disbelief he wore on his face, behind her.

As he rushed to catch up with her, his eyes caught sight of the source of the stench. A ways off from the docks laid a pile of bodies, perhaps 10 or more, stacked in the back of a horse drawn cart. Some were cut and bloodied, obviously fallen in the midst of a fight. Others, however, bore no such markings. Instead their bodies displayed signs of disease or starvation, or both. Hawke didn't need to question Isabela to know their reason for being there. With no one else to care for their bodies, there was nothing to be done but burn them somewhere outside of the more populated areas.

A heavy sigh escaped his lungs as he pressed on. He was mere paces behind Isabela when his eyes forced him to look upon the carnage once more. As he did so, the vision that assaulted him stopped him in his tracks. Ice ran through his veins as the horror before him choked the breath from his lungs.

Atop the pile of bodies lay someone he knew better than himself. Her dark hair, tangled and matted with blood, fell away from her as her head hung limply, her throat exposed. The clothes had been stripped of her body and stab wounds took their place, veiling her form in crimson even darker than the night sky. As he gazed upon this nightmare, his hands began to shake in tormenting agony, his pain soon giving way to a frenzied rage as he clenched his fists so tightly that they drew blood. He recoiled as he felt a soft hand grip his shoulder and quickly turned to kill whatever might lie in his sight.

Isabela felt his skin boil and quickly maneuvered out of his way as he turned, unleashing a fireball where her head had been. She drew her blades and turned, expecting attackers behind her, but she was met with nothing. As she turned back to Hawke, her first instinct was to yell at him or hit him, or both, but as she looked at his face, she found herself questioning who it belonged to.

His eyes were crazed, foreign, and his body shook like a man possessed. His jaw clenched tightly shut and every muscle in his body tensed, as if poised for attack. Upon catching sight of her, however, a calmness fell about him and his kind eyes returned. His head snapped quickly back to the horse cart, but the apparition that had haunted him was there no longer. He and Isabela shared a look, both of utter confusion and alarm.

Hawke found his emotions in direct conflict with one another. On one hand, he was relieved and thoroughly grateful that Isabela was safe and unharmed. On the other hand, whatever it was he had just experienced had caused him to strike out at the person he had been mourning, and nearly given himself reason to do so in the process.

As he gathered his senses, his breathing slowed and he cautiously took a step toward the woman before him. Isabela gripped her weapons tightly, but did not raise them.

"Isabela…" he murmured, trying to calm himself as much as her.

Her body eased at the sound of his voice, but now her adrenaline fed her anger. "What the bloody hell was that, Hawke?" she shouted.

Having absolutely no idea how to respond, all he could do was shake his head, mouth agape.

"Maker's balls! You're going to have to do a lot better than that!" she declared, growing more agitated by the second.

"I don't know what happened," he countered. "One minute you were in front of me and the next your body laid amidst the others!" He pointed at the cart to convey his meaning.

Isabela's anger was immediately replaced with concern... and dread. "Like your dreams?" she questioned.

Hawke looked away, as if searching his memory, and nodded. "Yes," he whispered. "Except this time I didn't need to sleep for the nightmare to find me."

Sheathing her weapons, she approached him. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice as she drew closer to him. It wasn't until her hands found his face and turned it toward her own that he became aware of the world, once more.

"You would tell me if you were going mad, wouldn't you?" she asked seriously.

In spite of the circumstances, Hawke felt a slight laugh escape him. "You'd be the first to know," he replied.

Isabela drew breath and then slowly exhaled it, as if trying to purge herself of the stress and worry that had been hoisted on her.

"We're in some serious shit, aren't we?" she asked, a little less seriously.

Hawke rested his forehead against hers as he answered.

"Yes, love, I think we are."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: As a sidenote, I'd like to mention that parts of this chapter were inspired by a wonderful piece of artwork that I found on Deviant Art. I can't post the link here, but I've put it in my profile. I highly recommend taking a second to check it out. _

* * *

As dusk fully shadowed the island, Isabela stood on the sandy shore that lay just beyond the tavern they were staying at. Many thoughts plagued her mind as she stared into the dark blue sea that rolled into waves and crashed upon her bare feet. She wiggled her toes as they buried themselves deeper in the sand with each wave, the white froth tickling her bare legs. The frigid water left her feet numb and she fought the urge to submerge herself completely so that her entire body might be so.

Hawke's nightmares as of late had been concerning, but his latest episode was unlike anything either of them had ever experienced. Isabela was unsure what to make of it - as was Hawke. He had spent the night pouring through books, trying to find answers to whatever it was that ailed him. Of course he'd come up empty, just as she knew he would. A book labeled "3 Steps to Sanity" would have been far too simple.

Isabela sighed. "_Why can't things ever be easy?"_ she thought to herself.

A quiet splashing behind her gave her pause as she realized someone was approaching. Before she could turn to see them she felt warm hands sliding around her hips, trailing around her stomach as strong arms enveloped her. A stubbly face kissed her shoulder as an all too familiar scent surrounded her. As another wave crashed upon them, she felt the grip around her tighten.

"Andraste's tits! This water is freezing!" Hawke exclaimed.

Isabela smiled. "With language like that, we'll make a pirate of you yet," she joked.

Hawke pressed his lips to her ear, his stubble lightly tickling her skin as she felt his lips pull into a smile. "Then perhaps it's time I plundered your booty," he countered.

Isabela rolled her eyes. "As if I haven't heard that before."

A breeze rolled off the ocean and whipped her bodice in its wake, flapping the bits of fabric that hung loosely against the man who stood behind her. She closed her eyes and breathed in the salty smell of the sea as it filled her lungs. She worried of the days to come, but at that very moment, with the ocean bathing her feet and Hawke's arms encumbering her, she was content. She wanted nothing more than to hold onto that feeling for as long as possible and avoid whatever unpleasantness they were to face.

With that in mind, she gently lowered Hawke's arms and stepped away from him. A smile crept onto her face as she reached up and pulled off her bandana. The wind swept her hair in a million directions as a strong gust beat against her back. Her slender legs turned and began to walk parallel to the crashing waves, her arm floating in the wind behind her with the bandana acting as a sail. As the first stars began to twinkle in the darkening backdrop, Hawke found his eyes drawn to only one – her.

"What are you doing?" he yelled after her with a chuckle.

Without turning, her response was carried in the wind until it found his ears.

"I'm enjoying the moment! You should try it sometime!"

With that, her slender fingers released the bandana. The little, blue cloth soared on the breeze, twirling and flipping before it fluttered within Hawke's reach. He plucked it from the air with ease while his eyes remained fixed on Isabela.

She stopped just long enough to glance over her shoulder at him. Throwing him a coy expression that dared him to come and get her, she continued her graceful stride. His grip on her token tightened as desire swelled inside of him. A grin spread across his face as he slowly gave chase. His boots splashed in the water as his legs carried him closer toward her, first at a brisk walk and then at a jog.

Upon hearing the pace of his footsteps, Isabela quickly turned and dodged his advance as he tried to grab her. He had anticipated her movement, however, and hadn't thrown himself fully into the pounce. He was able to turn and catch her with his right arm before she expected it, falling into the sand beside her as they both lost their balance. She shrieked in delight as the icy water crashed over them.

Hawke quickly rolled on top of her, shielding most of her body from the cold that poured against them. His face cringed at the sharp, needling pain each blow of the water provided, but the amusement on his face was unmistakable. Isabela's expression matched his and as another wave threatened them, she curled into him, trying to shield herself from the blow.

Suddenly Hawke's eyes flickered electric blue and he raised his hand toward the water before it fell on top of them. The impending waves immediately froze into solid ice, cradling Hawke and Isabela and creating a sort of makeshift shelter in an arc around them. Only the slightest amount of water fell on them now as it slipped over the top edge of their protective barrier.

Isabela relaxed as she saw what he had done. She never would have imagined such a thing and yet he had done it almost without thought.

"The things your fingers can do," she said suggestively, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I'm just glad you're still impressed by them," he said with a small laugh as his fingertips walked up the outside of her thigh, stopping just beneath her bum.

She longed for his touch, for his lips against hers. Even now, as her teeth began to chatter from the cold, she was burning up from the inside out at the very thought of his body entwined with hers.

Fiercely she rose to meet him, lips colliding in a moment of passion that they both shared. Her slender fingers moved from his face, scraping against the cloth over his chest as they trailed ever downward. His hand caught hers, however, and he pulled away from her. Frustration colored her features as he made no indication of resuming their previous course of action.

"Don't think that I don't know what you're doing," he said.

Isabela assumed an innocent expression. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Of course she was lying. She knew exactly what he meant, but she didn't want to talk about it. She just wanted to feel his skin against hers, to be comforted by his presence - and sanity, however fleeting. Worrying about him had occupied her every thought as of late and her only wish was for some brief, and sweet, respite.

"I know you're only trying to distract yourself – both of us – with… this," he responded gently. "But avoiding things doesn't help."

Isabela exhaled in irritation. "I don't want to talk about this right now," she said firmly.

Hawke's lips parted in response, but before he could get the words out she curled her leg around his and flipped them so that she was positioned on top. A triumphant expression came over her as she looked down at him. The exchange of position didn't change Hawke's mind about the matter though. He looked at her softly, as if trying to coax a frightened kitten from under the bed.

"Isabela…" he started, but she'd had enough. Before he could get out another word she angrily shoved herself to her feet.

"What bloody good are you then?" she shouted harshly as she stamped away.

Immediately after saying it she wished she could take it back, but she was so angry at him that she couldn't force herself to turn around and apologize. Instead, she hurriedly marched to their room at the inn, cursing at him, and herself, the whole way.

Hawke quickly stood and watched as Isabela headed toward the tavern. He called out her name, but she didn't respond in the slightest. He exhaled deeply as his eyes gazed up at the night sky. Turning in frustration, he kicked the icy barrier he had made for them only moments before. It shattered into pieces and the water rushed past, only to carry the fragments out to sea as it receded once more. As the wave fled, it washed the top layer of sand out with it, revealing the edge of Isabela's bandana buried beneath the sand. Hawke had completely forgotten it when he tackled her. Swiftly he leaned over and plucked it from the earth, rinsing it off in the water. As he held it in his hands, a thought hit him like a ton of bricks. Something that should have been obvious to him had evaded his thick skull and he groaned as he realized how foolish he'd been.

Hawke's feet carried him swiftly to the tavern where Isabela had taken refuge. As he reached the door, he hesitated only a second before entering. Isabela stood at the other end of the room, pouring herself a shot of whiskey. Her wet clothes clung to her body and even from a distance, he could see her shivering beneath them. Her head turned as he closed the door behind him, but the anger was drained from her face.

"Can you just save whatever it is you're going to say until tomorrow?" she asked listlessly, downing the whiskey as she finished the question.

Before she had time to do or say anything else, Hawke was upon her. He brusquely turned her around and kissed her the same. His hand reached behind her and shoved everything that sat on the table onto the floor. Isabela felt him press his hands under her thighs as he lifted her on the table. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but she wasn't about to question it. This was what she wanted. More than that, this was what she _needed_.

As Hawke's hands moved up her body, he grabbed her drenched clothing and pulled it over her head, throwing her bodice to the floor. She shivered more than ever as his body pressed firmly against her, making his desire known as she felt him between her legs. Moaning in anticipation, she grabbed at his shirt and pulled it off of him, desperate for more of his touch, his skin. She wanted all of him, everywhere at once.

Abruptly, he lifted her once more, this time placing her on the bed. As he crawled on top of her, his movements became more subdued, more caring, more like the lover he usually was. There was something in his eyes as he looked at her that Isabela couldn't quite place, but for some reason she felt her chest tighten under his gaze.

Hawke's fingers moved to her face and gently brushed a lock of her chestnut hair from her face. His touch was subtle, but as his hand grazed her soft skin it felt like an electric shock. Gently he brought his face to hers once more, but this time, as their lips met, Isabela felt something inside of her snap. She forced her eyelids shut tight, but a tear still escaped, falling down her cheek until it found the place where Hawke's face met with hers.

Hawke pulled away as he felt the moisture hit his face. Her eyes remained shut, for fear of more tears escaping or because she didn't want to meet his stare, Hawke couldn't be sure, but he did know that this was unlike her. His thumb brushed tenderly across her cheek, wiping away her distress.

"Isabela," he whispered.

Isabela's jaw clenched and she made a visible effort to swallow the lump in her throat. His words affected her half as much as his touch did. This is exactly what Hawke had realized on the beach after she had stormed off. She would let her guard down for him, but not for his words. Words were easy to fake. Isabela knew that better than anyone. She'd had countless men tell her that they loved her, that they'd do anything for her, but aside from Hawke, none had ever followed through. It was in his actions that he had proven himself to her and it was through his actions that he would do so again now. He wouldn't let anything come between them. Not now, not ever.

Focusing on the present once more, Hawke noticed Isabela's body tremble. At first he thought she might be crying, but then he realized that she was shivering. He grabbed the top of the comforter on the bed and lifted Isabela up just enough to slide it out from under her. He kicked off his boots and lay beside her as he covered them both. His hand moved to her hip in a reassuring gesture, but she turned on her side, facing away from him. Hesitation filled him as he lifted his hand an inch, determining whether his touch was welcome or not, but before he could decide her hand caught his and pulled it around her waist. She nestled her body against his and he pulled her as close to himself as she could possibly be. As his lips pressed against the back of her head, lingering longer than usual as he inhaled her scent, he felt her body shudder as the last of her walls finally crumbled.

Isabela turned to face him and met his gaze with her own. Her eyes were bloodshot from holding back tears, but she seemed to have composed herself, for now at least. Gingerly Hawke kissed her eyelids. She forced a small smile in response, but it quickly dissipated.

"Talk to me," he pleaded.

Isabela didn't know where to begin or how to voice the thoughts that filled her head. She felt foolish for acting this way, but she could tell by the way Hawke looked at her that he didn't think that. That alone was the push she needed to give her worries a voice.

"I'm scared that I'm losing you," she managed to say.

Hawke brought his hand to her face, but before he could speak she touched her finger to his lips.

"If you say anything, I might get all weepy again and then I'll never get this out," she said with a smile. Hawke nodded in response, returning the expression.

"This isn't like the other times our lives were in danger," she continued. "We're not just talking about you losing your life. Whatever is happening to you isn't natural. What am I supposed to do if your body sticks around and your mind, your heart… everything that makes you, _you_… doesn't?"

With a sinking feeling, Hawke finally understood her fears. If he died, she could mourn him and move on, but if he lost his mind, that would be a whole different kind of hell. He knew her well enough to know that even then, she wouldn't abandon him.

"That's not going to happen," he promised her, but he saw the look of disbelief in her eyes.

"That's not something you can guarantee," she countered.

Hawke shook his head, disagreeing with her. "I don't think any of this is what it seems," he insisted. "If anything, I think we should be worrying about _you_."

Now Isabela was the one to disagree. "You still think these are warnings?" she asked incredulously. "You were wide awake the last time. How would that be possible? And who would do that in the first place?" She wanted to believe him, but it just didn't add up.

"I can't answer any of that," he murmured. "But I have an idea."

Isabela's brow perked at his statement. "An idea for…?" Her voice trailed off.

Hawke sat up, resting his arms on top of his bent knees as he looked away from her. He could already anticipate her reaction to what he was about to say.

"I'm going to the Seer in town tomorrow," he said.

Isabela's mouth fell open in shock. She hadn't known what to expect, but this was unbelievable. She sat up beside him, shooting him a sharp look. "A Seer?" she cried. "I told you about my mother. She was a manipulative bitch. You can't trust someone like that."

Hawke looked at her, determination in his eyes. "That was your mother," he replied. "We don't know that every Seer is like that. I asked around today and from what I gather, the Seer in this town is not only the real thing, but she's ventured into the Fade with people before."

"The Fade?" Isabela questioned. "What are you going to find there?"

Hawke intertwined his fingers with hers, staring at her delicate hands as he answered.

"Answers. Whatever is doing this is centered there. I can feel… something."

He glanced up and saw the look of disbelief on her face. "I know this all sounds crazy, but I need you to believe me."

It was hard for Isabela to let go of all of her fears and dive into this plan of his, but Hawke needed her to and that was enough of a reason for her to try. Sighing, she looked at him.

"You don't make it easy on a girl," she quipped. "Luckily for you, I've always had a thing for crazy. It's better than boring, at least."

Hawke smiled, happy to see her good humor returning, but as his eyes found hers, a seriousness came over them both.

"I'm with you," she assured him, leaning within inches of his face. "I'm _always_ with you."

Hawke pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear and smiled. Now that they both had voiced what was on their mind, the air was clear and they both felt lighter for it, though the burden was not completely lifted.

Isabela crossed the remaining distance between them and she touched her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her as they fell back on the bed, beginning a dance they'd done more times than they could count, but never before as intimate and heartfelt as that night. As they drifted off to sleep, still entwined in one another, they both knew that their world would be forever changed upon waking. If only they had known by how much, they might not have gotten out of bed the next morning.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I didn't really like how the last chapter turned out, but I think I've finally found my writing groove with this chapter. Hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently from now on. =)_

* * *

Hawke and Isabela rose early the next morning and prepared themselves to visit the Seer. Hawke had obtained directions to her home on the outskirts of town the previous day and estimated that it would take just under an hour to reach her on foot.

Isabela, apprehensive of the task at hand, plied herself with a shot of whiskey as Hawke gathered some of their things. As she did so, he caught a glimpse of her in the mirror and snickered. Isabela raised her brow suggestively as she turned to meet his stare.

"Want some?" she asked, raising a glass.

Hawke turned and shook his head incredulously. "We just barely got out of bed."

Isabela shrugged. "And we're about to see a mystical witch so she can travel to the Fade with you and find out what beastly's been giving you wicked nightmares and hallucinations for _my_ benefit."

Hawke chuckled. "I suppose you have a point." He strolled over to her and accepted the shot. He waited as Isabela poured one for herself and then they raised their glasses.

"To you and your never-ending supply of ridiculous adventures," she toasted.

"And to you, and you're dedication to saving my ass so that I might lead us on many, many more," Hawke said with a laugh.

Isabela giggled as they clinked their glasses together and then tipped the alcohol down their throats. "Let's get this over with then," she said with a sigh.

She moved toward the door, but as she passed Hawke, he caught her arm and playfully jerked her back to his side. He kissed her briefly, their teeth knocking together as they smiled. After their lips had parted, his hand moved to her face.

"Thank you," he said.

"I'm not completely selfless about it. I get as much out of it as you do," Isabela replied.

"I'm not talking about last night – and you know it."

Isabela heaved a sigh. "I don't know why you have to talk like this, but since you insist… It's not like I could very well let you go without me. Wherever you go, I follow," she admitted. Her voice softened as she finished her thought. "Much like the body does its heart."

Hawke was speechless at her heartfelt admission and it showed on his face. Isabela laughed at his response.

"That was good, wasn't it? I should remember that for my next friend fiction."

Hawke could only shake his head in amusement before pulling her toward him and gently kissing her forehead. She held onto his hand as she started toward the door, but as she moved out of his reach, they released their hold on one another. Mesmerized, he stood frozen, reveling in the sight of her as she threw him a smile over her shoulder before opening the door and disappearing into the sunlight. Coming to his senses, Hawke quickly grabbed his backpack and headed out after her.

Isabela stood just outside the door, waiting. Hawke emerged from their room and, upon catching sight of her, lightly smacked her bum as he walked past. A shriek escaped her as she felt the unexpected sting of his palm.

"Ready then?" he asked with a grin.

Rubbing her backside, she started toward him. "That was not a good hurt," she said with a glare.

Hawke tried to suppress a laugh. "I'm sorry. Shall I kiss it for you?"

"Mmm. Let's save that thought for later, shall we?" Her sour expression quickly curled into a smile.

"Your wish. My command," he replied with a bow of his head.

"Ooh. Let's save that too," Isabela purred.

Hawke smirked at her innuendo, but didn't say another word. As they began to walk, Isabela looped her arm around his. They walked this way for a long while, neither of them saying anything. In spite of their banter, the thing they were about to do weighed heavy on them both. It wasn't until they were almost there that Hawke broke the silence.

"I remember when I was a boy, Bethany and I used to walk like this."

Isabela peered at him, her concerns falling away in place of curiosity. "Like what?" she asked.

"Like this." He gestured at their arms, looped in one another's. "We used to take walks together frequently. We always invited Carver to come, but he rarely did. He chose to stay close to father instead, no doubt trying to impress him in our absence."

Isabela smiled. "That sounds like Carver."

"Yes. I suppose he hasn't changed much." Hawke's eyes drifted away, unfocused on the world around them as he daydreamed of days long passed.

Isabela thought of the boy she'd met a decade ago, still bashful and awkward around women, always struggling to escape his brother's shadow. That same boy was now a man serving in the Grey Wardens who'd proven himself in his own right. His last letter had even mentioned a girl, a fellow Warden, that'd he'd recently started courting. Isabela, of course, had written a positively devilish response, instructing him in the ways of women as if he were still a boy. She couldn't wait to receive his, sure to be, scathing reply.

As much as Carver tried to play the brusque and stoic warrior type, she knew he was really just a big, cuddly bear. He'd proven as much when he saw them off before they left Kirkwall. He'd hugged his brother goodbye, a sight Isabela had never before witnessed. He must have realized there was a chance he might never see them again. After he'd said all he needed to his brother, he'd moved on to Isabela, kissing her on the cheek and telling her how glad he was that his brother had her. She was surprised to learn he could see through her façade as much as she could his. He knew she would take care of his brother and love him the way he deserved. Before departing, however, he made sure to mention, loud enough for his brother to hear, that he was still single should Isabela ever grow tired of the "inferior brother". She chuckled to herself at the memory.

Glancing at the eldest Hawke beside her, she noticed his pensive stare and could only guess where his thoughts were.

"You don't talk about your sister often," Isabela said. "What was she like?"

Hawke smiled as he thought of Bethany, unconsciously pulling Isabela closer to himself. "She was… the most caring and selfless person I've ever known. Carver was like our father and I was more like our mother, but Bethany… She was like the best parts of all of us pieced together in one person. I could live a thousand years and never meet another like her."

Isabela was moved by his words. He'd only ever spoken of Bethany a few times and never at length. To hear him make such a sincere speech about her made Isabela feel sad that she could never know that part of Hawke's life when it was obviously so very dear to him.

"I wish I could have met her," she said softly.

Hawke's mouth pulled into a half-smile as he looked at her. "Me too. I'm sure she would have _loved_ you. You're a perfect balance of adventure and levity. I cringe to think of the trouble you would have gotten her into."

"I don't know what you mean. I'm a perfect lady," she said, assuming an innocent expression.

"This is coming from the woman who encouraged Aveline to stick her thumb up Donnic's ass," Hawke replied.

Isabela threw her head back in laughter. "Oh, I had forgotten about that." She paused, considering something before asking a question. "Do you think-"

"I don't even want to know," he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Oh Maker. And now I have a mental image in my head!"

Isabela laughed even harder. "Now you're getting visions of Aveline and Donnic? Naughty! When you're in the Fade, can you ask whoever's behind them to send some my way?"

"With _your_ imagination, the last thing you need is something like that. Besides, why would you need to see that when your nights are much better spent with me?" Hawke raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Ooh… good point," she replied, biting her lip. She drew in a deep breath to clear her head of such distracting thoughts. "Let's save this talk for a time when you can properly convince me of that."

"You mean you don't want to find a nice bush to hide behind and have it proven right now? Since when are you the practical one?" he asked lightheartedly.

As Isabela looked at the path before them, her smile faltered. "Ever since we arrived at the Seer's house."


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this posted! I've had a lot of stuff come up lately and I just haven't had the time to write as much. I'll be posting a few chapters all at once to make up for the delay and show everyone who takes the time to read this that I do value your feedback though. Thank you so much for reading!_

* * *

Hawke and Isabela stared at the house before them. The tattered, old building didn't look like anything special, yet it likely held answers that would change their world forever; answers that neither of them was completely sure they wanted.

Isabela slid her hand down Hawke's arm and took his hand, a tight squeeze issuing her support. Wordlessly, they glanced at one another. They were full of things to say, the words ready and poised on the tips of their tongues, but not a single one fell from their lips. Knowing fully what no words could express and no idle chitchat could make light of; they walked, hand in hand, to meet their destiny.

A woman met them at the door before either of them had even knocked. Hawke was surprised by her appearance. For some reason, he had expected an old woman with frayed clothes to be the Seer, but the lady in front of him was nothing of the sort. She was about his age with dark skin and a strong jaw, not very dissimilar to Isabela. Unlike Isabela, however, she was plain looking, but still striking in her own way. Her dark hair was tied up in a messy ponytail with a few stringy locks framing her face. She brushed the hair out of her eyes and as she did so, Hawke noticed a trail of scars along her arm. They appeared to be burn marks, but she caught his gaze and quickly lowered her arm again before he could determine more.

"Come in," she said with a meager smile.

Isabela released her hold on Hawke as he gestured his arm in front of them, allowing her to enter first. With a cautious glance she slipped past the Seer with Hawke following closely behind. The Seer led them to a square table with four chairs around it where they promptly sat.

"My name is Katiana," she said. Her voice was like silk, but it had an edge to it that Hawke couldn't discern.

Hawke and Isabela responded with their own introductions before she continued. It was unlikely that anyone would recognize him as the Champion simply from their names, but they lied anyway, to be on the safe side.

"I'm Zevran," Hawke said, giving Isabela a coy look from the corner of his eye.

Isabela smiled widely, but caught herself and tried to tone it down before Katiana saw. "And I'm Meredith," she said, taking up a serious tone. Hawke's lips pursed in an attempt to hide his amusement as an image of Isabela in the former Knight-Commander's armor popped into his head.

Katiana was either bad at reading people or didn't care to press the issue because she just nodded in understanding. "An apostate and a Rivaini? I can only imagine why you've come to me." She sat down directly across the table from Hawke.

Isabela opened her mouth to respond, but Hawke interrupted what was sure to be a snarky comment of some kind. "We weren't really sure where else to turn," he said, avoiding her glare and focusing on Katiana instead. "And despite… Meredith's previous dealings with Seers, you were spoken highly of."

Katiana's stare intensified. "What troubles you?"

Hawke leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as he looked briefly at Isabela. "I've been having these… nightmares," he answered. His eyes averted the gaze of both women as he continued. "They've even started to haunt me while I'm awake. I see… terrible things. But I can feel a truth to them, as if they hold some meaning that I can't quite grasp." He paused for a second as he rested his gaze on Isabela. "I _need_ to know what they mean."

Katiana touched the cold metal of the ring around her finger, taking comfort in its existence. She glanced at the pair before her as they shared a look. It was a fleeting moment between them that lasted no more than a second, but it was more than enough for her to grasp the meaning in it. Knowing her role in this, she wished she hadn't.

"Nightmares can often be manifestations of a person's fears, but waking visions as you describe…" Katiana trailed off as she thought of what it could mean. "That's something I've not encountered." She smiled slightly before adding, "And I don't take you for a mad man."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Isabela muttered under her breath.

Hawke glared at her playfully, but she raised her eyebrows in an innocent expression as if she had done nothing.

"What do you suggest then?" he asked, turning his attention back to the Seer.

"The heart of these visions must lie in the Fade," Katiana replied. "To understand them, you must venture there and face whatever it is that plagues you. I can help you get there… but more than that I cannot do."

Hawke nodded, eager to get to the bottom of the issue at last. "Can we do it now?"

"Yes," she responded. "I will need a few minutes to prepare for the ritual, but it won't take long."

"What about me?" Isabela finally asked, unable to keep quiet any longer. "I'm supposed to sit here and watch you two sleep together?"

Her wording wasn't lost on Hawke and he tried not to laugh at her jealous outburst. Before he could answer her however, Katiana stole his voice.

"Zevran hasn't specifically said what the subject of his visions is, but just from the way he speaks, I'm assuming they involve you?" she asked.

Surprise registered on Isabela's face. "Well… yes, but… I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"It means everything," Katiana responded. "We don't know if these visions are a helpful warning from a friend or a threat from an enemy. Or perhaps even something worse."

Isabela hadn't thought of that. Even so, she couldn't just let Hawke wander into the unknown with a complete stranger. "So what? Even if I die there, I'll just wake up in my own body here."

The Seer's face grew somber. "You may not be killed, but there are far worse possibilities than death."

Isabela turned to Hawke, but his face said everything before his lips had the chance. She wasn't going on this journey with him – and that was final. She sighed in resignation.

"I'll begin preparing then," Katiana said with a nod. She rose from her chair and began gathering things from a cupboard in the kitchen. Hawke caught Isabela's gaze and motioned his head toward the door. She nodded slightly before rising and following him outside.

Katiana's front porch wasn't a grand veranda to be coveted by kings, but it had a nice, quaintness about it. The overhang was made from a vanilla colored wood, as was the banister that lay just beyond the door. Potted plants decorated the deck while a wooden wind chime sang its soft song.

Hawke leaned against the railing and looked out at the sky. Dark storm clouds painted the normally clear, blue expanse. A strong breeze blew against him, filling his nose with the smell of a fresh rain that hadn't yet fallen. He wondered how far off the storm was and if he and Isabela would be able to reach safety before it was upon them. Another scent interrupted his thoughts as Isabela stopped leaning against the door frame and joined his side.

As she reached her hands for the railing, Hawke noticed how they shook. He'd been through hell with this woman and he'd never seen her visibly shaken like she was now. He moved his hand on top of hers and met her eyes with his own.

"What if Katiana is right? What if this isn't a friendly warning? What if you become possessed, or tranquil, or worse?" she asked.

"It's possible that she's right," he answered with a frown as he followed her thought process. "But none of that is going to happen."

"You can guarantee that, can you?"

"Bela, I-"

"Don't," she said, cutting him off. Her voice wasn't harsh, but it had an edge to it. She struggled to meet his eyes, instead focusing on the same clouds he had just been watching.

"But -"

"Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't."

Hawke wanted to force her look at him, tell her that everything would be okay and make her believe it… but he wasn't sure he would even believe himself - so he didn't. Instead he stood beside her, his hand clutching hers as he watched her watch the world. Eventually his eyes followed hers and he found his vision focused on the brewing storm once more.

Feeling the absence of his stare, Isabela peeked at him from the corner of her eyes. She was having one of those moments she thought she'd ridded herself of long ago where the urge to flee was just as great as the one to stay. She wasn't sure she would ever recover if anything happened to her Champion. The thought of him coming back… different was almost too much to bear.

Isabela felt herself drifting from Hawke. Not physically, but in a way, she was distancing herself from him in case the worst should occur. It wasn't something she did consciously, but the space between them felt like a rip that was being pulled in opposite directions, growing deeper with each second.

It was then that a particularly cold gust of wind blew against them, enveloping her in his scent. Her throat tightened as she was flooded with memories of him. She could remember every detail of his face from the first time she'd seen him at the Hanged Man, the tenderness he'd shown her the first time they'd made love, the sickness she'd felt as she'd admitted her lies about the Qunari, the relief she'd felt when he'd stuck by her anyway, his hands on her body, his words in her ears… he was everywhere and without him there was little left for Isabela in the world. She didn't need him to complete her, but he made her feel whole like no one else ever had.

There was nothing more she wanted in that moment than to wrap her arms around him and bury herself in his chest, but she didn't need to. Hawke caught her looking at him and saw the strain on her face. Forsaking any thought he'd just had about giving her space, he gently pulled her against him. He stroked her hair as she rested her face against his chest, the beating of his heart comforting her in a way that she usually only felt when they were buried safely in her ship, hidden from the rest of the world.

Neither of them spoke or made any effort to. If the circumstances had been different, they might have stayed this way until sundown. Unfortunately, only a minute or two passed before Katiana interrupted them.

"I'm ready," she said regretfully, as if she disliked interrupting them as much as they did.

Hawke kissed the top of Isabela's head before they pulled away from one another.

"You'd better come back exactly as you are now," Isabela threatened.

"The sex would be a bit awkward otherwise," Hawke joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Worry still showed through Isabela's smile even though she tried to mask it. "Maker knows that's all you're good for."

Hawke leaned down and pressed his lips to her ear. "We both know that's not true," he said with a smile.

Isabela frowned at him as she turned her head slightly in his direction. Hawke took the opportunity to softly kiss her lips. It was brief enough to be meaningful, but not long enough to say good bye. They both pulled away in time to make sure of that.

Hesitating for a second, Hawke stared at Isabela as if trying to make up his mind about something. Just as she was about to ask what was wrong, he made his move. He twisted a ring from one of his fingers and grabbed her hand, placing the ring in her palm. Isabela's eyes widened in horror.

"What's this?" she asked in dismay.

"This ring was my father's and his father's before that and so on and so forth. It's one of very few physical possessions I care anything for." He closed her hand over the silver circle. "I'm giving it to you… because I plan on getting it back as soon as I'm finished here." He smiled as the alarm drained from her face.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, you know," Isabela said crossly. Though irritated, she was comforted by his gesture. Even though he couldn't explicitly say it, this was his promise to come back to her. She slipped the ring over her thumb, the only place it would fit, for safe keeping until he returned.

Hawke flashed her a reassuring smile before turning and following Katiana into the house.

Isabela debated following them in, but her part in this was over. She'd be nothing but an audience in there and she felt helpless enough as it was. She didn't need to be reminded of how powerless she was to help him. Noticing two chairs on the opposite side of the porch, she reluctantly approached them and plopped down, letting out a heavy sigh as she did.

Minutes passed as she sat there listening to Katiana mumble incantations in a foreign tongue somewhere inside the house. It sounded like gibberish to Isabela. She was just starting to wonder how long this part of the ritual would take when the Seer's voice was replaced with silence. Isabela listened intently, straining her ears for any sort of sound. She wondered if she should go inside to see what was going on when a soft pitter patter broke the quiet. At first she was so focused on what might be happening with Hawke that she couldn't discern what the sound was, but as she stood a bolt of lightning cracked the sky. A strange sense of calm rushed through her as she walked to the edge of the porch. She stuck her hands out from under the protective barrier, palms facing toward the sky, and let the warm rain pour over her hands. Isabela saw the next bolt of lightning reflected in Hawke's ring, electrifying the appearance of the silver token, as well as her heart.

She was never one to believe in the Maker, let alone ask him for anything, but never before had she had anything to lose. As she slipped Hawke's ring from her finger and gently twirled it around, her lips made a single request that she was sure she would feel foolish for later, but her heart wouldn't let her forego.

"Maker…. Please don't take him."


	8. Chapter 8

Hawke felt himself transported from the realm of the living to the place he now resided. As he took a second to catch his bearings, he noticed Katiana move to his side.

"It's up to you now," she said.

Hawke nodded as he looked around. It was always so hard to focus in the Fade. It was like being in a dream, the world itself was foggy, almost like being underwater, and all of the color was drained from everything. It was the most depressing place he'd ever been and he didn't like having to be there once more. Breathing deeply, he turned his thoughts to the task at hand.

The place they stood was shadowed by a giant mountain. Snow covered the peak as dark clouds served as their ceiling. There was something familiar about this place, but he couldn't quite make the connection. Katiana obviously recognized it as well because she immediately walked to the edge of the mountainous path they were on and stared out over the ledge.

Below them lay Llomerryn, but there was more to it than that. In the distance he saw Kirkwall and Lothering as well, but they weren't as they should have been. It was as if someone had stripped away the land and sea separating every major city in all of Thedas and pushed each civilization together until it was one. The buildings went as far as their eyes could see.

"What is this?" Hawke asked to both Katiana and himself.

The Seer, having no answers, only shook her head in amazement. Neither of them had ever seen anything like it.

As they stood staring, a tiny light began to dance in the distance. Hawke wasn't sure, but he thought the illumination came from his former home of Lothering. As they watched, the light began to navigate the map, slowly at first, but picking up speed rapidly. As it finally reached the opposite side of Lothering, the entire city was set on fire. Hawke and Katiana gasped in surprise, both nearly forgetting where they were.

The light continued to burn a trail through the land until everything before them was set ablaze. Even from their altitude and distance they could hear the screams as millions of people were burned to ash.

Hawke clenched his hands so tightly that his nails cut into his palms and drew blood. Even as it dripped onto the dirt at his feet, he felt nothing. He was far too horrified by the sight before him. The only thing that broke his gaze was a hint of color from the corner of his eye. He turned his head sharply just in time to see an ocean blue bandana float in the wind before him and toward the fire at his feet. It was the only thing with such vibrant color that he'd ever seen in this place. His body moved quickly away from the edge as his head swiveled around, searching for the person who owned that familiar article of clothing. Despite his efforts, he saw nothing. He called out to Isabela, though he wasn't sure why when he knew she was safely waiting for him in the land of the living.

Katiana came to his side and, upon seeing how distraught he was, lightly touched his shoulder in reassurance.

"None of this is real," she said. "Your friend… Isabela, is it?" She smiled kindly, seeming almost amused to find that they'd used fake names. Or maybe she was amused that they'd thought she'd believed them in the first place. Hawke felt foolish, but Katiana was nothing but comforting. "She is safe."

Hawke half-smiled and nodded. Just as he was about to ask Katiana a question, a chuckle from their right caught his attention. He looked over in time to see a pair of boots disappear behind the mountain. Forsaking any rational thought, Hawke broke into a run and followed the same trail that he'd just seen the boots use. He turned the corner just in time to see a bundle of windswept hair disappear around the next bend.

"Isabela!" he called out fruitlessly. He knew it wasn't the real Isabela, but he couldn't help himself. There was a greater force pulling him toward her like a moth to a flame. He was helpless to resist its lure.

As he turned the next curve, he was surprised to see an apparition of his love waiting for him, an alluring smile covering her face. Hawke slowed his pace to a walk and approached her like he would a frightened animal. This doppelganger felt so illusive to his grasp that he was afraid she would disappear the moment he finally caught her. He was only feet from her when a flash of lightning nearby blinded him for a second. He closed his eyes sharply, but when he opened them again, Isabela was gone. Just as Katiana caught up to him, a familiar voice echoed from nearby.

"Oh, come on. You can do better than that, kitten."

Out of breath, Katiana struggled to reason with Hawke, but he was frantic to find this ghost and face it. He ran ahead a little and found a cave hidden in the side of the mountain. Hawke snapped his hand open, a fireball appearing in the palm of his hand. He waited for Katiana to join him before venturing into the darkness. Apparently realizing the futility of her efforts, the Seer no longer protested Hawke's actions, instead walking silently beside him.

It took a little more than a minute or two for them to reach a large, circular opening in the center of the cave, though traveling in the pitch black made the task feel as if it dragged on for decades. Torches were placed evenly around the walls of the clearing, illuminating the area perfectly and revealing a figure drenched in black standing in the center. Hawke quenched the flame in his hand and looked at Katiana.

"Wait here," he said.

She grabbed his arm firmly as he turned to leave, startling him.

"Do not give this stranger the same trust you would the woman you love simply because it wears her face," she cautioned.

"I know," he said hoarsely.

Katiana released her hold on him and watched as he walked toward the answers he seeked.

The closer Hawke approached the mysterious figure, the more she was revealed. She indeed wore Isabela's face like Katiana had said. He stopped a few feet from her, afraid she would disappear again if he moved any closer.

"Who are you?" Hawke asked, his tone firm.

"I am the essence and spirit of Eleni Zinovia," she said. The voice she used was no longer Isabela's and it was jarring to hear another's words come from his lover's mouth.

"Am I supposed to know that name?"

"No," she said casually. "There are many things you are not supposed to know… yet."

Hawke scrunched his face in frustration. "Why these games and riddles? Can't you speak plainly?"

"I cannot," Eleni said. "You have a great destiny, Champion of Kirkwall. There are things you must do and things you must discover for yourself. I cannot tell you what is to come… I can only prepare you."

Hawke's frustration was quickly transforming into anger. He was tired of being maneuvered like a pawn for the benefit of others.

"And Isabela? What does she have to do with any of this? Why do you wear her face?" he asked angrily.

The imitation of Isabela smiled slightly. "Is there anyone you trust more? Who better to appear to you as than the only person you've ever surrendered yourself to completely?"

"That doesn't explain the visions. I assume you're the one behind them. Why force me to see such things?"

"Because you need to. Because you'll see much worse in the end," she answered cryptically.

Hawke didn't know if that was a threat or not, but it only fed his anger. Wildly he stepped forward and grabbed her throat. Before he could even threaten her however, he released his hold on her. He knew she wasn't Isabela, but she looked exactly like her, even smelled like her. He couldn't do anything to harm this body. He doubted he could harm Eleni even if did. Defeated, he met her eyes. She was a replica of the woman he loved, but her eyes lacked the fire that Isabela's had.

"I know 'tis not what you desire," Eleni said almost apologetically. "But some of us have a destiny beyond our control."

"And yours?" Hawke asked, referring to her own fate.

"Prophecy is both my doom and destiny," she said. "I see what the Maker shows me and it has cost more than you can imagine."

Curiosity filled Hawke's face. "You're a prophet?"

She nodded. "I once served Archon Valerius of the Tevinter Imperium. Loyal as I was, to stone I was cursed when I prophesied the fall of his house. That way I remained for many, many years."

"Stone?" Hawke asked. "But you aren't anymore?"

"There is much you cannot know… cannot understand," she said.

"Obviously," Hawke muttered under his breath. "At least tell me why you've forced these visions upon me," he demanded.

"As I said, I can only prepare you," she answered, returning to her enigmatic language.

"For what? For something to happen to Isabela?"

"Partly," she admitted. "The Maker will return to light their fires before the shadow can consume all. You will be but a light in its heart."

Hawke sighed in aggravation. "I know this dwarf named Sandal that you would get on with splendidly," he said sarcastically. "He doesn't make a bit of sense either."

"A storm is coming for you," she continued, ignoring him. "You will sacrifice a piece of yourself to save her, but she will fill your heart and make you whole once more. Do not let what you must do weigh heavy upon yourself. Your actions will be a catalyst of change in you that will be necessary in the years to come."

This captured Hawke's full attention. "Her? You mean Isabela? Save her from what?" A million questions ran through his head, but he only voiced the ones most likely to be answered in some form.

"You will discover that soon enough," Eleni said. "I have said all I can. 'Tis time for you to return. Remember what you have heard… and seen. "

Hawke suddenly remembered the burning cities below the mountain.

"Wait, what do those cities out there mean? What does any of this mean?"

"Heed my words and all will turn out as it should, Champion," she said. "Take comfort in the fact that you are not alone in this. The Warden shares a fate similar to your own."

Hawke was about to speak, but he was cut off by Eleni's hands as they clapped together, rumbling the world around them like an earthquake. He tried to focus, but he felt himself fading.

"Wait," he whispered before he fell to his knees, his body suddenly drained of all energy. His hand disappeared before him as he extended his arm toward her. The world became enveloped in darkness, as was he. Just before he lost consciousness, he heard Isabela's voice through the darkness, calling his name.

* * *

_A/N: Some of you might remember Eleni Zinovia from the mage origin story in Dragon Age: Origins or the Witch Hunt DLC. She was the talking statue that the Warden encounters. I found some interesting comments from Mike Laidlaw and David Gaider on the BSN forums saying that there were more to her prophecies than people thought so I couldn't resist using her._ Just a little fun fact. Hope you enjoyed it! =)


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: I actually had this chapter written out when I posted the last chapter, but I didn't like it so I went through and completely rewrote it - hopefully for the better. I didn't think it would take so long, but I've had a ton of stuff come up lately so I'm sorry for the major delay. Let me know what you guys think. As always, comments/criticisms are welcome! Thanks for reading!_

* * *

Hours passed and still Hawke and Katiana didn't wake. Isabela wasn't usually one to worry, but years of adventuring by Hawke's side had taught her that a little concern was usually warranted. While the circumstances had her understandably stressed, perhaps worst of all for Isabela's nerves was theboredom. While Hawke traipsed around in dreamland doing Maker knows what, she was stuck in a stranger's home without so much as a drop of whiskey.

Sighing heavily, her body slumped down in a chair. She leaned forward, resting her elbows against her knees as she propped her face up with her hands. The temptation to rouse Hawke from his unconscious state was growing deeper by the minute.

Just as Isabela had begun to seriously contemplate such a course of action, the front door swung open and a man stepped in. Isabela leapt to her feet, drawing both blades from her back as she stepped between the intruder and the unconscious couple on the floor.

"Who are you?" Isabela demanded. She pressed the tip of her blade firmly against the man's Adam's apple.

Strangely, the man didn't seem afraid of her advance. In fact, he seemed amused - which was evident by the grin he wore. He slowly raised both hands in a submissive gesture.

"I'm Katiana's husband, Ronan," he said, pointing toward a ring on his finger. Isabela recognized it as the same one Katiana wore. Slowly she lowered her weapons, but remained on guard.

"She didn't tell us she was married," Isabela said flatly.

With her metal threats removed from his throat, Ronan moved past her as if her presence in his house was a normal occurrence. "Katiana doesn't usually make a habit of sharing personal details with those who seek her help," he said. His eyes moved toward the bodies on the floor of his living room. "Fade ritual?" he asked rhetorically. Before Isabela could respond, he was speaking again. "Whoever you are, you must be in some pretty interesting trouble." A chuckle followed his statement.

"If you knew us, you'd know what an understatement 'interesting' is," she said.

Ronan moved through the house, barely taking notice of the fact that his wife and some strange man slept on the floor. Isabela realized he must come home to this sort of thing often. She recalled her mother doing some strange things as well, though most of them had been manipulations instead of genuinely helpful services like Katiana was rendering. Isabela _almost_ felt guilty for being distrustful of the Seer initially.

Ronan disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Isabela standing in front of the door. She didn't quite know what to make of this man. His dark skin matched Isabela's though his brown hair was a shade lighter with copper highlights running through it. His body, or at least as much of it as Isabela could see, was almost as muscular as Hawke's, though Ronan was a tad leaner. It was the body of a runner or a swimmer more than that of a fighter. Isabela knew well enough from the many lovers she'd had in the past.

A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she mentally compared the differences. Her eyes drifted toward Hawke. "Oh, you definitely win, kitten," she mused to her sleeping lover.

As Ronan came back in the room, she noticed the jacket he had been wearing was removed. He stood before her in a sleeveless shirt and trousers, nothing else. With so much of his skin exposed, Isabela noticed, for the first time, the intricate tattoos that covered his body. In Rivaini society, these were a sign of high social standing. She wondered what someone like him could possibly be doing in Llomerryn.

"Would you like something to eat?" he offered. Again, his voice stole her place in the conversation. "Wait… I think I can offer you something you'd appreciate more." He smirked, holding a finger up to her, before turning on his heel and heading into the kitchen once more.

Isabela heard the clinking of glass and then he was back, the object in his hand brightening her mood immediately. "Whiskey?"

Isabela perked up, in more ways than one. "And I thought your wife was the Seer," she joked.

Ronan chuckled and sat down at the table, motioning for her to join him. "Fortunately she is. Maker knows I could never do what she does."

Expertly he poured them both a shot, filling their cups to the brim without spilling a drop. He slid Isabela's glass toward her and they nodded slightly to one another before tipping the drinks down their throats. Isabela closed her eyes and focused on the alcohol as it warmed her from the inside out. It wasn't nearly enough to get her drunk, but it was enough to take the edge off a bit. That would have to suffice for now.

"How long have they been out?" Ronan asked, motioning his head in Hawke and Katiana's direction.

Isabela wasn't entirely sure how long it had been. It felt like she'd been sitting in the house for years, but something told her that might be a slight exaggeration. It was probably closer to a few hours. The storm hadn't let up at all which made determining the exact time a bit tricky though. She answered with her best guess. "Two… three hours maybe?"

"Hm," Ronan rubbed his face as he thought. "They could be hours yet. Maybe even days."

Isabela's eyes widened in horror. "_Days? Did he just say days?"_ she thought.

Noticing her dismay, Ronan's face gave way to a grin. "I'm kidding! Don't worry. It won't be much longer, I'm sure." He didn't wait for further prompting before pouring Isabela another shot. She drank it up and glared at him with a crooked smile.

"I know what will help pass the time," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a deck of cards. He held them up for Isabela to see. "You play?"

A wicked grin spread across her face as she leaned back against her chair. "That depends on what you're willing to wager."

Six hands later, Isabela found herself freed of nearly every coin she carried on her. Normally this was the part of the game where she'd seduce or fight her opponent to get her money back, but her relationship with Hawke and Ronan's relationship with the Seer made neither of those viable options. Instead, she went with her third option and silently pouted at Ronan from across the table.

"Are you going to tell me how you got so bloody good at cards or would you prefer to remain mysterious?" she finally asked as she lost yet another hand.

Ronan chuckled slightly, clearly enjoying her dissatisfaction. "That's a rather long story, I'm afraid."

Isabela glanced at the pair on the floor. "I don't know about you, but I've got nothing but time."

Ronan smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Alright," he said, pouring another shot of whiskey down his throat before continuing. "As I'm sure you already noted from my tattoos, my family was very prominent in Dairsmuid. My father's business - the business that gave us such prominence - was also what led my father to the Qunari. He dealt with them often and became friends with a few… as much as one can become 'friends' with the Qunari, at least."

He shuffled in his chair slightly as he spoke of his family and Isabela could tell that this wasn't a tale he told often. She filled their cups again before grabbing her own and leaning back in her chair. Ronan didn't tell stories as animatedly as Varric, but what he lacked in enthusiasm, he made up for with a dark mysteriousness. She listened intently as his voice poured over her.

"When I was sixteen years old, my family, and many other families close to us, converted to the Qun. It was then that my mother and father gave me an ultimatum; I could either convert with them or they would disown me and I would have to leave their home and find my own path in life. Unwillingly to blindly follow them, I chose the latter."

Isabela's eyebrows rose in surprise. She hadn't expected a story like this.

"Coming from an upper class family, I was well-educated, but knowing of history and science and math didn't exactly make anyone more willing to hire a homeless teenage boy. So, I found myself using my skills in other less… scrupulous ways."

A grin spread across Isabela's face as Ronan's story began to resemble her own in ways.

"I took to spending my nights in taverns and pubs. I could count cards easily and, most of the time, without anyone suspecting it. I moved throughout Rivain, never staying in one place long. I lived that way for years… and then I met my current… _employers_." He practically spit the last word at Isabela, as if it tasted bad on his tongue. "One night I took up a high stakes game in Afsaana against a group of pirates. Usually I could outcheat cheaters, but there were two that were absolutely masterful at it. See, they were playing as a team and had developed a system to communicate their cards to one another so that they'd have a more accurate count than anyone else. Like I said, they were brilliant. Unfortunately for them, I was even cleverer than they." He smirked slightly at the memory and gulped down the whiskey Isabela had poured moments before.

"I'll save you the specifics, but suffice it to say, I managed to trick them into revealing their own deceit to the entire table. As you can imagine, that didn't sit well with the rest of the players and they were lucky to leave the tavern with their lives. Regrettably, since they used many of the same techniques I did, once play resumed, I was forced to continue using almost entirely legitimate methods… which as you know, doesn't win you much coin. I played a few hands before I took my winnings and left."

He poured another glass for himself and gestured the bottle toward Isabela. Surprised to find herself on the edge of intoxicated, she regrettably declined. When Hawke eventually roused, he would probably need her to be at least a little coherent. Ronan set the bottle on the table and leaned forward, boldly fixating his eyes on hers as he continued his story.

"I took a back alley on my way to the bordello where I was staying that night and that's when I ran into them. The pirates I had made fools of at the tavern had followed me. Of course I ran, but it was futile. They had friends with them and every exit I had was blocked. They beat me within an inch of my life, took all of my coin, sliced me with their swords… not enough to really wound me, but enough to hurt… enough to leave scars."

He lowered the collar of his shirt to reveal a light-colored mark that ran around the side of his throat, disappearing beneath his shirt. It was subtle, not the worst scar Isabela had seen, but it had been deep enough to leave a mark. Her mouth fell open in shock as he lifted the bottom of his shirt to reveal a pattern of similar markings covering his stomach and chest. As he let the fabric fall once more, she realized that his back was probably no less marred.

"As I laid on the ground, broken and bleeding, one of the men from the game, the one in charge of their little welcoming committee - their captain, actually, but I didn't know that at the time – he pressed the tip of his sword to my throat and laughed. 'Beg for your pathetic life and I might make your death quick,' he sneered at me. With what little strength I had left, I sat up, pressing my throat against his sword until it drew blood and I said, 'I will never beg you for anything. Kill me if you're foolish enough… but I could make you far more coin with my head still attached.'"

A look of surprise and amusement registered on Isabela's face. "You didn't!" she exclaimed.

Ronan responded with a shrug, but she could see the satisfaction in his eyes. "I had nothing to lose at that point," he replied. "It was a gamble."

"Considering you're here, I'd say that it's obviously one that you won," Isabela said.

Ronan's mouth was naturally curved into a smile, but for the first time since Isabela had met him, he frowned. "I'm not sure 'won' is the word I would use," he said softly, sneaking an almost imperceptible glance at Katiana.

Sensing more to the story, Isabela urged him to continue. "Well, don't let me stop you," she said. "If you don't finish before these two wake up then I may never get to hear what happened."

Ronan grinned at her interest. "True enough," he said. "Well, as you said, obviously they didn't kill me. I piqued their interest and they took me on board their ship. That's when I realized that they weren't your average pirates. They belonged to the Raiders of the Waking Sea… Just my luck, right?"

He snorted in amusement, but Isabela could see his anger written in the subtle lines of his forehead.

"It took me a month to recover enough so that I could walk on my own. We landed here, in Llomerryn, a week or two after that. I proved myself to them in a dozen or so card games and they decided I was a "worthy investment" after all," he scoffed. "I had begun to scope out their organization with hopes of escape. They wouldn't hesitate to follow and slaughter anyone who helped me so I was trying to figure out a way to avoid that… outsmart them and gain my freedom…"

He broke his gaze with Isabela as his voice trailed off. Isabela opened her mouth to ask what had happened when he interrupted her with an answer to her question.

"But then I met _her_…" he said, looking to Katiana. "She became my freedom. I could never leave her. No matter the cost of staying…" he looked at Isabela once more, a tormented look in his eye that she couldn't comprehend. "I could never leave her."

Isabela smiled slightly, not sure what the proper response was. She felt as if she had just walked in on a private moment between two people.

"Wow," she finally managed to say. "That almost makes me feel fortunate that my life turned out as it did," she said jokingly.

Ronan flashed her a grin. "I suppose Rivaini aren't lucky by nature."

Isabela's gaze moved to Hawke and Katiana. "I don't know if I'd say that," she said quietly, almost to herself.

"Indeed," Ronan agreed, following her stare. "I'd endure far worse than I have to keep Katiana in my life."

He was about to ask if she was up for another round of cards when Katiana gasped loudly. Ronan shot up and ran to her side, kneeling beside her as she began to sit up. Isabela immediately moved to Hawke, but he didn't stir. She looked over at Katiana who was now fully conscious and being helped to her feet.

"Why isn't he waking up?" she demanded. "Is this normal"

"No. I don't know what happened," Katiana answered. "He was right in front of me… But I didn't initiate our departure. I don't know why he isn't awake yet."

"You don't know?" Isabela snapped. "You're supposed to be an expert!"

Ronan stepped in between the women. "Let's just calm down. I'm sure he'll come around any moment now."

Isabela ignored them, instead leaning close to Hawke's ear. "Hawke," she said, shaking him slightly. "Can you hear me? I swear I'm going to kill you if you come back with a demon." His lack of response only made her more agitated. "Hawke? Hawke!" She was practically yelling in his ear now. Ronan stepped forward and gently grabbed her shoulders, but she shrugged him off of her.

"Yelling at him won't wake him any faster," he said softly.

"Maybe not, but it makes me feel better," she replied angrily before leaning in and calling his name again. This time he flinched.

"Maker, I'm right here. You don't need to yell," he said, squinting his eyes at her.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Isabela accused.

Hawke chuckled softly. "Yes," he replied. "I faked being unconscious just so you could yell in my ear for a while. I haven't had that much fun since the Arishok impaled me with his giant, pointy sword."

"You're infuriating," Isabela said exasperatedly, pushing herself back and sitting on the floor.

Hawke smiled devilishly. "I missed you too."

He sat up and kissed her briefly, but as he started to pull away her hand moved to the back of his head and she pressed against him harder. Hawke could barely believe how worked up she'd gotten herself. When she finally pulled away, he saw that all the anger had drained from her face.

"Everything's okay," he whispered. He wondered if that was a lie considering what he'd just experienced, but he decided to wait until later before he told Isabela about everything.

Isabela helped Hawke to his feet and Katiana introduced her husband to him. After a few pleasantries, she told Ronan and Isabela an abridged version of events from her point of view, explaining that she had never experienced anything like it. She didn't mention anything Eleni had said to Hawke so he assumed she hadn't heard any of it. He remained quiet, not wanting to reveal all he had learned to anyone but Isabela.

Hawke and Isabela stayed long enough to have a drink with Ronan and Katiana, but understandably, they were anxious to leave and have their own private conversation. When they were finished, they thanked the couple and paid the Seer for her services before stepping out the door.

Isabela peered out from under the porch as the rain dripped on her face. "Looks like we're going to get a bit wet," she said.

Hawke raised his eyebrows at her comment as he looked out at the torrential downpour. "Really? What makes you think that?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Good to know that little trip in the Fade didn't affect your horrible taste in jokes."

"And here I thought you loved my smart mouth," Hawke said wryly.

Isabela giggled, as if enjoying a personal joke. He eyed her suspiciously, but she simply winked at him without saying a word, a suggestive smile on her face. Hawke shook his head in resignation.

"Shall we then?" he asked, gesturing his arms toward the storm before him.

Isabela sighed. "I suppose we'll have to…" She raised a hand in front of them. "Ladies first," she teased, referring to Hawke.

"Oh, you think that's funny, do you?" he laughed, scrunching his face in mock anger.

Isabela chuckled under her breath, trying to keep a straight face. "Mmhmm."

"Wonderful. It's so rare to meet a pirate jester these days…" he mocked.

"You should feel honored," she said.

Hawke sighed, part of him still joking and part of him serious. "I do."

Catching the look in his eye, Isabela pursed her lips. "Let's go then," she said, wanting to avoid any kind of serious declaration at the moment. There had been far more than enough of those today. "It'll be dark before we get back to the Inn as it is." Hawke nodded in agreement.

Taking a deep breath, they rushed into the rain, running for as much of the way as they could. It didn't matter though. By the time they reached their room they were soaked to the bone and exhausted -Hawke especially.

As they shoved through the door, Isabela immediately began to peel off her wet clothes while Hawke slid down the door and collapsed on the floor in exhaustion. She grabbed a small blanket from the foot of their bed and wrapped it around herself before turning and noticing Hawke. She kneeled down in front of him, an amused expression covering her face.

"The Fade must have been more strenuous than Katiana let on," she teased.

Hawke was so tired he could barely smile at her. "You have _no_ idea."

"Then why don't we get you out of those clothes and you can tell me about it," she said, her fingers moving to undress him.

Once she had removed his wet garments, she helped him into bed and crawled beneath the covers beside him. His skin was like ice against hers and she worried he would catch a cold in his weakened state.

"Hold on," she whispered, sliding her legs out from under the covers. "I'll make a fire."

Hawke smirked and lifted his arm. Fire engulfed his hand and he flicked it in the direction of the fireplace on the opposite wall of the bed. The wood in the hearth caught immediately and began to crackle and pop.

"I always forget you can do that," she said.

"I told you I was good for more than just sex," he said, referencing their conversation from earlier in the day.

Isabela tucked her legs back under the blankets and nestled herself against Hawke. As she rested her hand on his chest, she noticed his ring on her thumb. She could have given it to him then, but she was shocked to realize that she didn't want to. She liked having a memento of him with her, especially since this one was like having a constant promise from him to return to her.

Hawke noticed her eyeing her hand and followed her gaze. When he saw his ring on her hand, his curiosity piqued. He'd completely forgotten it in the day's events, but he'd expected her to pawn it off on him at the first chance she got. Any sort of serious romantic gesture before now had reciprocated either agitation or terror from her – if not both. The fact that she was keeping the ring, if even just for the day, was a big deal. He smiled as he watched her subtly brush the metal against his skin.

Smiling, he rubbed his hand down her back, eliciting a satisfied moan from her. Desire stirred in him as she ran one of her legs between his, but he was far too exhausted to heed its call. She moved on top of him and lightly touched her lips to his before resting her head on his chest once more.

Isabela wanted to know every detail of his experience in the Fade, but they were both worn out and she doubted there was anything that could be done right then. Whatever trouble awaited them could wait one more night.

She felt his arms relax around her as he drifted off to sleep in record time. With her ear pressed to his chest, his heartbeat – the only lullaby she'd ever craved – softly lulled her to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: I'm back! ...finally. Sorry about the long hiatus. Life got busy, as it tends to do. I'm going to make more of an effort to work on this story though so the next chapter will show up much sooner. _

_Thanks to everyone who has stuck around this long. I appreciate all of your comments/critiques. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

It was early the next morning when a knock on the door roused them from their sleep. Only half awake, Hawke looked at Isabela from the corner of his eye.

"Who could that _possibly_ be?" he moaned.

Isabela opened her eyes for the first time and met his gaze. "From your lack of movement, I'm assuming that means you want me to get it then?" she asked incredulously. Hawke only smiled in response. With a groan Isabela pushed herself up on the bed and threw her pillow at Hawke's head, which he caught with a chuckle.

"You _are_ closer to the door…" he said as he half-heartedly fumbled with an excuse.

Isabela ignored him as she pulled on his robe and deftly slipped the dagger from her nightstand into her sleeve and out of sight. "Some Champion you are," she muttered to herself as she groggily opened the door, her blade at the ready. As the sunlight from the open door lit up Isabela's face, Hawke noticed her features darken almost imperceptibly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked skeptically. Hawke saw her body relax as she slipped out her dagger and set it on the nightstand. Immediately Hawke sat up and peered through the doorway, anxious to see who was waiting on the other side.

Katiana looked from Isabela to Hawke, a sad smile briefly filling her face before she covered it with one more convincing. "I… I thought of something that I thought might help you," she said. Isabela glanced over her shoulder at Hawke with a look on her face that clearly portrayed her hesitance, though Hawke couldn't understand why. He furrowed his brows at her for a second, before clearing his throat and focusing his eyes on Katiana once more.

"Right... I'm not exactly dressed for company, but come in," he offered. Quickly he slid off his side of the bed and pulled on his smallclothes.

"It's not much, but I thought it might interest you," Katiana said.

Hawke turned to face her. "We'd appreciate anything you could give us," he replied. Katiana smiled meekly and bounced her gaze off the floor, glancing at Isabela beside her before meeting his eyes once more.

"The mountain - the one we were on in the Fade… I couldn't figure out why it seemed so familiar to me," she began. "Then, last night, I remembered. It had been so long since I'd been up there; I'd almost forgotten it completely…" She trailed off, losing herself in some memory beyond Hawke or Isabela's grasp.

"Katiana?" Isabela asked softly, eyeing Hawke suspiciously.

"Sorry," she replied, breaking free of the thoughts that had taken hold of her. "The, um… place. It's the mountain that overlooks Llomerryn. I had Ronan draw you a map." She withdrew a piece of parchment from the pocket of her dress and handed it to Isabela. "That should lead you to the exact ridge we were on." Hawke watched Isabela unfold it before looking to Katiana once more.

"Thank you, Katiana," he said. "I appreciate you bringing this to us."

She nodded in response and turned toward the door, stopping short of the exit. "Be very cautious. You don't know what might be waiting there for you," she said, her back turned toward them. Before either could respond she stepped out and closed the door.

"Well, that was weird," Isabela stated.

Hawke nodded as he watched Katiana's figure fade from view out the window. "Do you think she's alright?" he asked.

"It's us I'm concerned for," Isabela replied. Hawke walked behind her and slid his arms around her waist.

"Not all Seers are your mother," he assured her.

"It's more than that," she insisted, leaning back against him. Hawke grinned slightly. "You've been wary since we met her," he argued. "You have to start trusting people eventually."

Isabela's eyes flashed with anger and she spun away from him. "I trust _you_, Hawke," she exclaimed. "Excuse me if I don't recruit every bloody misfit I meet to be my new best friend."

Hawke tried to stifle a laugh. "But look how well that's worked for me," he said.

Isabela stood her ground. "My instincts have gotten me this far," she said. "And they're telling me now that something isn't quite right with this." Hawke sighed in resignation and took a step toward her. He touched his hand to the delicate skin of her cheek and met her fierce gaze.

"Alright," he agreed. "We'll be careful."

With his reassurance spoken, Isabela sighed and shook her head. "Andraste," she murmured. "When did I become the careful one?"

* * *

After eating breakfast in the tavern, where Hawke relayed the details of his encounter with Eleni Zinovia to Isabela, they emerged from the building, their packs prepared for the journey ahead of them. Isabela said it looked like a few hours to the ridge Ronan had marked on the map, so they guessed they'd be there by just after midday. As they set out, the clouds above the mountain cracked and a flash lit up the darkened landscape.

"Oh, lovely," Isabela muttered. Hawke sniggered and drew her close to him as they walked.

A couple of hours passed before they reached the base of the mountain, upon which they spent another hour circling trying to find the overgrown path they were supposed to ascend. Surprisingly, they found the path more trodden than they had expected and, though it was no easy climb, they began their ascent. The path was wide enough for two or three at a time, but the edge crumbled away at the slightest touch so they took the path one after another instead of side by side. They climbed for a few hours or more, neither speaking as they concentrated on their footing during the steep incline, until they reached a point where the trail leveled out. They rounded the mountain once more and then came to a wide ridge that overlooked Llomerryn and its port.

"Wow," Isabela whispered as she took in the view. The ocean, though darkened by the storm clouds, glinted like thousands of diamonds in the distance as the sun peeked through patches of cloud.

Hawke stood in front of her, as wordless as he was motionless. The wind tore at the fabric on his armor and whipped at his hair. If not for that movement, he could have been mistaken for a statue. Isabela gingerly stepped beside him and placed her hand on his should.

"Hawke?" she asked, breaking the spell that had a hold over him.

He blinked and met her gaze. She felt his muscles relax beneath her touch and waited for him to speak.

"This is it, Bela," he murmured. The sky above them took that opportunity to crack wide open, enveloping them in a torrent of rain. As the droplets hit the ground, the smell of water mingled with the dirt and gave off a powerful earthy scent that signaled the arrival of a storm. Yet neither of them moved an inch.

"How can this be exactly as it was in the Fade?" he asked her. "I've never even been here."

Isabela could only shake her head. "That's what we're here to find out though, right?" she asked.

Hawke nodded and the haze that had enveloped his movements dissipated. "Why don't we rest for a minute? It's not much further and we don't know what we'll find."

Noticing the rain that poured over them for the first time, they quickly ran toward the mountain and sat on a natural bench of stone beneath a hollowed out portion that protected them from most of the water that fell. Hawke leaned his staff beside him and pulled the drinking water from his pack. After taking a sip, he handed it to Isabela and as she took it, he noticed that the skin of her flesh was covered with goosebumps. He pulled a hooded cloak from his pack and wrapped it around her neck, bringing his face close to hers as he tied it. Isabela looked at him with longing, as she often did, but when he finished the task he pulled away with a smile.

"Such a tease," she complained.

Despite the cloak, Hawke noticed a shiver run through her. He scooted closer to his pirate and wrapped his arm around her in an attempt to block the wind.

"There are easier ways to get warm," she remarked. "Much more fun as well." Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

Hawke laughed and moved his free hand to her thigh. His face was inches from hers when he spoke.

"When this is over, we'll settle down and make all the love in the world, maybe buy a nice house, have a few children…" he paused to note the horror in her eyes. "But for now we need to focus on the task at hand."

Isabela's mouth hung open. "That _better_ be your idea of a joke," she said.

"You wouldn't exactly be the ideal housewife," he replied with a grin. "I suppose I'll have to find someone better suited to the task when this is over with."

"Only if we can share her," she said suggestively.

"Agh, that wouldn't really work for me," Hawke answered.

"Jealous? _Really_?" The thought seemed to please her.

Hawke's mouth curled up and he took hold of her hand. "Not exactly. I just realized I only have one of these to give," he said, holding up her hand to display his ring on her thumb.

Embarrassment instantly colored Isabela's cheeks. He wasn't sure if she had just forgotten the ring entirely or if she'd kept it on purpose, but he knew the commitment, even if accidental, made her feel self-conscious. He smiled at the realization that the most beautiful woman he'd ever known was only uncomfortable about something as simple as loving someone.

"Right," she mumbled. She stared at her hand as her fingers twirled the metal around her thumb. "I… uh…. Oh, balls."

Hawke cupped his hand over hers, giving her nothing else to look at but him. "I'm not asking for anything to change between us," he assured her. "Think of it as a promise you can throw back at me if I ever break it."

Isabela chuckled at the thought. "I quite like that idea, actually," she replied.

"Alright then," he said, his eyes focused fully on hers. "It's sorted."

"Alright," she agreed. "I guess we can focus on more important things now... like leaving this mountain alive.

"You never know, this could all be for nothing. Or maybe our foes are something cuddly this time… like bunnies! We never fight anything fluffy."

Isabela giggled in response. "I'm not sure I'd want to fight something fluffy. It'd be too depressing."

"Well," Hawke thought for a moment. "Maybe we could just keep one as a pet then."

"Yes… a guard bunny for our quarters," she sniggered.

As her devilish grin lit up her face, Hawke found himself falling in love with her all over again. Even in the darkest, most dire situations she always found a way to be a light for them both, even if it was entirely unintentional. He would do anything to keep that light from going out. As these thoughts distracted him from everything else, he didn't realize he was staring at her with a ridiculous grin on his face.

Isabela cocked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

Her voice broke his trance and he found himself caught off-guard by her question. He laughed nervously and shook his head. "I…." He hesitated with his answer, but the longer he looked at her, the clearer his answer became. "You're beautiful."

Shock registered all over Isabela's face, but before she had time to fully process his words she was caught up in a kiss. His lips lingered on hers until he eventually forced himself to pull away, though only an inch or so. He nuzzled his nose against hers and closed his eyes, losing himself in her completely.

"You're good at playing the nonchalant type, but then you kiss me like _that_…" Her breathing was ragged and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I could say the same about you." Reluctantly he pulled away from her and looked at their surroundings. His chest heaved, exhaling a sigh that communicated just how little he wanted to continue this journey despite knowing how necessary it was.

"Are you ready then?" he asked. "It doesn't look like this weather will be letting up anytime soon."

"Such a tease," she joked, ending their conversation exactly as it had begun.

Unenthusiastically they picked up their packs and stepped into the rain once more. Hawke took one last look over the edge before leading Isabela around and up the mountain. Everything appeared just as it had in the Fade, though notably damper. It took only a few minutes for Hawke to find the opening to the cave he shouldn't have known existed.

Isabela let out a sharp breath and looked at Hawke. "This doesn't look at all foreboding."

He glanced at her with an amused expression before turning his gaze to the utter darkness before them. With a flick of his wrist a flame ignited in his palm. Isabela drew her blades and took her place beside him as they stepped out of the rain and into the eye of the storm, moving ever closer to the unknown.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: I promised I'd have the next chapter for you sooner and here it is! Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter. They were nice little motivators while writing this (and the next) chapter._

_As for Hawke and Isabela, well... there will be more than banter to critique in these next few chapters. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Just as it had in the Fade, the walk to the center of the cave felt like a lifetime. When they finally reached their destination, however, Hawke discovered that everything was mostly as he remembered. Although, instead of the clearing being illuminated by a magical light source, the roof of the cave was absent. How it had come to be this way was unclear, but it lit up the center of the cave enough for them to see by. Oddly, the ground wasn't wet and no rain fell through the opening. The clouds were patchy, but mostly nonexistent above that particular spot as well. Either the storm hadn't reached that place yet or it had already passed through a while ago. Hawke extinguished the flame in his hand and looked to Isabela. Neither of them needed to say it. They both knew that everything about this was strange.

As they pressed onward, a bright stone in the middle of the room caught their attention. Upon moving closer, they saw that it was a clear blue topaz that glowed fiercely with some magical essence.

"What now?" Isabela asked, scanning the room.

Hawke shrugged. "Take the stone, I guess," he said uncertainly.

"Oh, because things always go so well when we start poking and prodding things in caves?"

"I'm all ears if you have a better suggestion," he replied.

He waited for her to supply an alternative. Isabela opened her mouth in response, but shut it before speaking a word. After a moment, she appeared to give up.

"So our only plan is a _bad_ plan. I've followed you for a decade now. You'd think I'd be used to that."

Hawke narrowed his eyes at her. "You're hilarious."

A smug expression covered her face. "I try."

Hawke took a deep breath and stepped toward the stone. "Keep an eye out for anything… unusual," he told her.

"What about this _isn't_ unusual?" she asked. Once she saw the expression on his face she lifted her hands defensively. "Okay, okay. You don't have to tell me twice."

Without another word, Hawke moved forward until he was on top of the topaz. He knelt down, but he couldn't tell anything about it by observation alone, which frustrated him. He didn't like leaping into this so blindly, but he had no choice. Hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers slowly moving toward their goal. Taking one final breath before his fingers reached their mark, he reached across the remaining distance and touched the stone.

Isabela, who was watching him intently, felt the lump in her throat choke her as she watched a jolt of electricity leap from the stone and into Hawke. He cried out in agony, a sound so terrible that she almost covered her ears just to block it out. Instantly he crumpled to the ground, his staff falling away from him as his body went completely limp. Never before had she heard him cry out in such pain and the sound of it made her sick. She ran to him as quickly as she could and slid beside him.

"Hawke!" she called, but he didn't stir. She felt his shallow, labored breathing beneath her palm as she placed her hand on his chest. She gently brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I need you to wake up, Hawke," she pleaded. "I don't know what to do." Anyone else would have been hysterical, but Isabela wouldn't allow herself that. She needed to be collected and calm. Hawke needed her. But as the seconds ticked away and he showed no sign of waking, she felt her resolve begin to slip from her grasp. Tears filled her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. As she rubbed the moisture from her face, she felt a slight touch on her elbow.

"Bela." His voice came out gravelly.

Isabela's relief was palpable in that instant. "Thank the bloody Maker! Are you okay?"

Before Hawke had a chance to respond, a gruff voice interrupted them. "Step away from the mage and we'll let you live."

Isabela spun around, her blades at the ready, but there was no one in sight. She squinted into the darkened path from which they entered, but her eyes couldn't cut through the shadows.

"There's no reason for you to die," the voice continued, echoing off the walls. "We only want the Champion."

Isabela was surprised at the knowledge this stranger had, but did her best not to show it. "From my experience, men who make idle threats while hidden aren't half as dangerous as they pretend. Leave now and I'll let _you_ live."

Suddenly the cave was filled with laughter, followed by a light. It was a small torch that lit the badly scarred face of a man. Isabela rolled her eyes. "This is exactly what I mean." Before she could say anything more, another light appeared about ten feet behind the man, and then another, and another. When all was done, at least twenty well-armed men stood behind the scarred man. With so many torches, Isabela could easily identify the symbol on their armor. They were Raiders of the Waking Sea.

From behind her, Isabela heard Hawke struggle to speak loud enough for her to hear. "Go, Bela. _Leave_." She walked toward him, keeping her front facing the Raiders, and knelt by him once more. He was pushing himself beyond his limits, trying desperately to stand, but he could barely bring himself to his knees. Isabela knew he'd never be able to defend himself like this. She eyed the men who currently blocked their only way out. Staying was likely suicide, but Isabela had decided long ago that she would never leave Hawke again.

"Last chance," the scarred man offered.

When Isabela spoke, her voice was full of venom. "If you want him, come and claim him."

She looked once more at Hawke before leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss; its meaning was as evident as the sad smile she gave him. He grabbed her hand and choked out his final plea. "Don't do this, Isabela." She flashed him a devilish grin and squeezed his hand. "You worry too much."

Though Hawke tried to hold her in his grasp, he was far too weak and she easily slipped away from him. He could only look on in horror as the Raiders flooded into the cave and surrounded them both. He tried to stand, but as he pushed himself up, the weight of his own body proved too much for his severely weakened muscles and he tumbled to the ground.

"So be it," he heard someone say just as he slipped into unconsciousness once more.


	12. Chapter 12

A tingling cold sensation stirred Hawke awake. Disorientation overwhelmed him at first, but as the sounds of battle flooded his ears, it all came rushing back in one violent wave.

_Isabela_.

He choked down the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of her sacrificing herself to protect him. How ironic that his quest to keep her safe had only served to put her in more danger.

With great effort, he forced himself onto his knees and scanned the scene before him. Tiny snowflakes were falling through the gap in the ceiling, covering everything in a thin veil of white. Through a tangle of bodies, he spotted a familiar flash of color. He watched helplessly as Isabela dodged the tip of a sword one of the pirates stabbed at her, and in the same motion spun behind him, evading a sword from the opposite direction. She sunk one of her daggers deep into the man's spine while she threw the other at the raider a few feet in front of her, burying it deep in the woman's chest. Deftly she withdrew her blade from the man's back and leapt over his shoulders, the force of her body pushing his corpse to the ground. As she landed, she retrieved her second dagger from the pirate's chest and turned with the body in front of her, catching an ice spell in the wound she'd just supplied her. The mage who'd cast it fired again, this time a fireball, but Isabela disappeared before it reached her. She emerged behind the mage and slit his throat with both daggers.

Bodies lay strewn about, but at least a dozen foes still remained, scattered throughout the clearing with their eyes focused solely on Isabela. A group of three stood near the center and with a grin, she took off toward them at a run. Just before she reached them, a dark cloud took her place and she appeared behind them. She stood between them and an archer, who took aim at her immediately, but as his fingers leased the arrow, she disappeared once more and the arrow soared into the throat of one of the Raiders just as he turned around. Before the archer could even fathom what had happened, Isabela appeared behind him. She reached her arms around him and buried both blades into his chest.

For one fleeting moment, Hawke allowed himself to hope. Isabela was more than capable of taking care of herself, he knew. And after the display he'd just seen, taking out twenty or so men didn't seem as impossible an undertaking as it had a minute ago. His hope filled him… then just as quickly choked the breath from his lungs.

The scarred man stepped from the shadows where he'd been watching and moved deftly toward Hawke. Isabela was preoccupied with the remaining Raiders and didn't notice his reappearance. As the Raider leader pulled a dagger from the sheath on his side, Hawke struggled to reach his staff, which lay just out of his reach. He managed to drag himself closer, but the scarred man was nearly upon him now and Hawke's weapon remained at least a foot away. Struggling against fate as he'd done all his life, he persisted and brought himself ever closer to salvation, but just as he laid his hand on it, the damaged figure stood above him and placed his boot on the staff. In an instant, all his effort was for naught as the Raider kicked it away, far beyond his grasp. The same boot kicked Hawke onto his back where he was met with a blade at his neck. He grabbed at the man's arm, but found he was too weak to resist him and received a blow to the face instead. The Raider, kneeling over Hawke, looked up at Isabela. "You both could have survived this, but now neither of you will," he spat at her.

Isabela's eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the pirate smash Hawke's face with the butt of his knife. Quick as lightning, she parried a blade that fell in her direction and directed its force into the chest of the man behind her. She ducked beneath an oncoming arrow, though not quite enough as it grazed her shoulder. It wasn't much of a wound, but it was enough to throw off her momentum. Before disappearing completely, she threw one of her daggers at the disfigured Raider, but her wound slowed its motion. In the time it took her to reappear, the scarred man's mouth widened in an ugly grin and he caught Isabela's blade with his free hand, spinning with its energy.

Hawke saw what was coming before it happened, but was powerless to stop it. He growled in anger and desperately tried to cast a spell, cursing himself and everything around him, but it made no difference. It all happened within a matter of seconds, but to Hawke, it felt like an eternity.

As Isabela appeared behind the Raider leader, her dagger poised to strike, he turned into her full force and buried her own dagger in her stomach. She didn't scream in pain or cry out. Instead, she simply let out a sharp breath and with the last of her strength, plunged her blade in his chest. Both the scarred man and Isabela fell to the ground, the fate of one as precarious as the other.


	13. Chapter 13

A rage unlike anything Hawke had ever experienced consumed every part of him, filling his soul with a darkness he wasn't even aware he carried. Finding strength in the sickening ache of his heart, he roared with a fury that would have frightened the archdemons themselves.

The remaining Raiders, stunned by the sudden change of events, were frozen in place for the moment, but Hawke knew he had only seconds to react if he wanted to save Isabela. In one motion, as the scarred man beside him began to gag on his own blood, Hawke withdrew Isabela's dagger from his chest and used it to slice his throat. He glanced at Isabela, desperately fighting every part of himself from going to her. He knew the Raiders would be on them at any second and the only way he could help her now was by fighting them off... somehow.

With all other options depleted, one final, desperate solution came to Hawke. The moment the thought hit him, he realized this day had been waiting for him since the moment he was born. It was in that instant that he heard Flemeth's voice, of all people, echo in his head.

_"There are men who struggle against destiny, and yet achieve only an early grave. There are men who flee destiny, only to have it swallow them whole. And there are men who embrace destiny, and do not show their fear. These are the ones that change the world forever."_

Hawke breathed in deeply, every part of him resigned to what had to come next. He clenched his jaw and brought the sharpened claw of his Champion armor to his left arm and began carving a symbol into his flesh; the knowledge of such a mark came from one of his father's spell books he'd read so long ago. As he finished, he shut his eyes and found himself flooded with images.

The taste of Isabela intoxicated him as she pressed her lips against his. He felt the warmth of her body, breathed in the scent of her sun-kissed skin… Reliving their first kiss felt like going home again. Then the scene was ripped away and replaced with another. He felt her loss all over again as she ran out the door, choosing the Qunari relic over him. Even in a memory, her abandonment still came close to paralyzing him. Again, the scene changed and Kirkwall was burning. Now he was battling a varterral. The images came faster and faster. Exploring the Deep Roads, his battle with the rock wraith, Flemeth as a dragon, Flemeth as an old woman, an army of Darkspawn… He opened his eyes and they flashed a red as deep as the blood that flowed from his veins.

Hawke gasped for breath as an entirely new sensation rushed through his body. He could feel the life in the room, pumping through the veins of men who had no idea what they'd awoken. He concentrated all of his energy on the corpses of the fallen Raiders and with an almost instinctual knowledge, siphoned the very life-force from their bodies. The blood was literally sucked from the dead in tiny droplets, mixing with the falling snow in a macabre display before absorbing into his skin. With each drop, Hawke felt a powerful new force course through his body, giving him more strength and stamina than he'd ever possessed before.

This display, whether it caused fear or anger, coaxed the lingering Raiders into action. Hawke summoned his staff and stood, standing guard at Isabela's side. Immediately he cast a barrier around her, protecting her from further damage on the off chance one of the pirates got past him.

It was just seconds later when the first foe reached him, followed by two more not twenty feet behind him. Hawke deftly evaded the man's blow and maneuvered past his sword. The palm of Hawke's hand met the man's forehead and burned a symbol into his skin. The Raider cried out in pain, but before he could do anything more, Hawke shoved him back into the other two and watched as he exploded, mortally wounding one of the others. Arrows whirred in his direction, but Hawke was always a step ahead, easily striking them down or dodging their path. The third man finally reached him and charged with a two-handed axe, swinging violently down on him. Hawke blocked the blow with the bladed part of his staff and glanced the strike off to the side, leaving the Raider open for a boot to the chest. As he stumbled backward, Hawke turned and twirled his staff around, casting a fireball at the ice blast headed his way. The spells met with a crash and before the mage could retaliate, Hawke lifted his gauntlet. The mage was abruptly lifted into the air and, in unison with Hawke's movement, slammed into the floor with a sickening snap. The stunned warrior behind Hawke had recovered by then and took the opportunity to strike at his back, but as he raised his axe above his head, Hawke quickly turned and sliced the man in two. In the same movement, he twisted his staff around and shot a bolt of lightning at an archer across the way who fell to the ground in convulsions before going limp.

Only three Raiders remained frozen near the cave entrance; two archers and a rogue. As Hawke turned his focus on them, one of them ran into the darkened path, abandoning his bow in the process. The final archer, forced into action, quickly leased an arrow at Hawke, which he batted away like an annoying fly as he strode toward them. The rogue charged him and brought down her daggers in a torrent of metal. Hawke blocked her first and second blows before bringing his staff around to strike. The rogue backpedaled as Hawke violently smashed at her, losing ground to the blood crazed mage with every second. Her salvation came when the archer finally hit his mark, his arrow drilling into Hawke's lower back. The rogue used the distraction to disappear, but as she materialized behind Hawke, she was caught by an elbow to the face, all her momentum lost. Before the archer could ready another arrow, Hawke aimed his staff and cast a spell on him. The archer's eyes glazed over and as Hawke used his own blood against him, controlling his will like a puppet, the Raider turned his aim toward the rogue and let go. The arrow embedded itself in the stunned Raider's eye socket, killing her instantly. With the threat extinguished, Hawke released the archer's will from his grasp and he too fell over dead, joining his Raider brothers and sisters in whatever waited for them in the darkness of death.

All in the same stride, Hawke yanked the arrow free and ran toward Isabela. He let the barrier down as he fell on the floor beside her. She had removed the dagger from her stomach and was pressing the wound with her hands in an attempt to stop the blood, but it clearly wasn't working. A thin layer of snow rested on her and as Hawke touched her skin, he found she was alarmingly cold. He hesitated for a second before he placed his trembling hand on top of hers, unsure what else he could do. At the same time, he gingerly pulled her head into his lap, wrapping his free arm around her. He cursed himself over and over for never learning a healing spell. It seemed like such a simple thing after everything else.

His fear and panic must have been written clearly on his face because, even in the state she was in, Isabela still put on her signature smirk for him.

"Oh, sweet thing, it's just a scratch." The usual purr of her voice was barely above a whisper. Hawke smiled sadly as tears filled his eyes.

"I was supposed to protect you," he managed to choke out.

Isabela lifted her hand to his face and gingerly brushed a tear from beneath his eye; a touch which broke the dam on his resolve and released the others he had been fighting back.

"You always have," she assured him. "It was time I returned the favor."

Hawke shook his head, as if it would stir everything away and leave him with a kinder reality. "I'll fix this, Bela."

Her breaths became shallower and more labored as she strained herself to speak. She entwined her fingers with Hawke's and gave a squeeze. "It's _okay_. I'm not afraid. You... you changed my life, Hawke. Beyond all the thieving and fighting... there was _you_. Since the first time I met you in the Hanged Man, there's only ever been you."

The frankness of her words cut Hawke to the bone. Partly because he'd never heard Isabela be so forthright with her feelings. Partly because he felt the same way, but he couldn't even tell her that because he knew if he unclenched his jaw, the only thing to escape his lips would be a sob.

"And the _sex…_" she continued in typical Isabela fashion. Hawke laughed a little despite himself. Isabela smiled weakly. "That's what I like to see," she said softly, closing her eyes.

Hawke hugged her close and planted kisses along the top of her head, the heat of his lips melting the snow that sprinkled her hair. He managed to whisper a muffled, "I love you," into her dark hair without completely breaking his facade. After a pause, she breathed, "You know how I feel about you…" Her voice faded out on the final words, but Hawke read her lips clear enough.

"_My love_."

As he felt the life leave her, Hawke choked out the breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. He hugged her body tightly against himself as he mumbled in a mess of incoherent sobs, "I know, I know. I've always known."

_A/N: And that's a wrap! ...kidding. Sorry, that was cruel. More chapters are coming, I promise. Speaking of which, this last bit was one of the hardest things I've ever written. I wanted it to seem realistic and not have too much of a "cheesy romance novel" feel to it. I also wanted to switch up the dynamic with Isabela and Hawke a bit and show just how much they mean to one another. The strong and fearless Champion crumbled under the pressure_ _of losing Isabela while she was strong in the face of death, even facing her fear of intimacy, all to be the rock he's always been for her. I feel like that's kind of how their relationship works all of the time, behind the scenes, but they put up these facades for everyone else (Hawke: unshakable, Isabela: carefree) so we don't get to see it much. I hope I portrayed that at least a little bit. _

_As always, thanks for reading.  
_


	14. Chapter 14

Numb. That was all Hawke felt for a while. When he had drained all of the emotion from his body, all that was left was a vast emptiness deep in his soul and he just couldn't be bothered to care anymore. Maybe it was the cold of the snow that soon covered him as he sat on the ground holding Isabela's body. Maybe it was the blood magic wearing off. Or maybe it was the complete and utter loss of the one person he would have sacrificed everything for. He would have set Thedas aflame to save her.

_What does it matter now?_ he thought bitterly.

He lowered his head to hers and gently kissed her cold lips. He half-expected her to open her eyes and surprise him.

"_Gotcha!"_ she'd say with a laugh. "_You should see the look on your face._"

It didn't happen, of course. Instead, he took her hand and gingerly kissed the tips of her fingers and bruised knuckles. As he did, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of his ring that she still wore on her thumb. He saw the blood that streaked his face in a line across his nose from where Isabela had wiped away his tear. He lightly touched his face, feeling her dried blood where it caked on his skin… and then a thought hit him like a ton of bricks. An idea started to formulate in his mind and, though he dared not hope, he at least had to try.

One of the blood magic spells he knew of drained health from an ally and passed it to himself. If he used his own blood and reversed the spell, he might be able to do the same for Isabela. It would take considerably more blood to _revive_ her, but that was a risk Hawke was willing to take. If Anders was able to do the same with spirit magic, Hawke was determined to make it work with what he had.

After planting one last kiss on Isabela's forehead, he cupped the back of her head and slid out from under her, softly laying her head on the ground. As he moved to his feet, he grabbed his staff and spun the bladed end up. The metal glistened in the darkening landscape of the cave as he extended his arm in front of himself. With a glance at Isabela, he touched the icy steel to his forearm and dragged it firmly across his skin, leaving an ever widening trail of crimson in its wake. Hawke sucked in a breath of frigid air as his arm began to throb with pain. As the blood dripped down his arm, coloring the snow beside Isabela's body the darkest shade of red, he focused all of his energy on the task at hand, but the minutes passed with no result.

At the rate he was losing blood, if he didn't heal himself soon he knew he would bleed out, but being the obstinate man that he was, he refused to give up just yet. It wasn't long, however, until his muscles began to feel weak beneath the weight of his body and, before he realized what was happening, he found himself kneeling in the blood-soaked snow.

In one last desperate attempt, he placed his hand on Isabela's stomach, his blood mixing with hers as it ran down his arm. He could feel the fire in his blood as it left his body, each drop leaving him considerably weakened and cold. It seemed to make no difference though and just as he was considering putting an end to his desperate scheme, he felt the slightest light blossom in the void that had, until moments ago, filled Isabela's body. He concentrated even harder then, if that was possible, willing his blood to become part of her and make her whole once more. Slowly, he felt her energy grow, but she was still just a candle in the darkness and _his_ Isabela needed to blaze like the sun.

Between the rapidly falling snow and his loss of blood, Hawke felt himself growing colder and colder. He shivered down to his very bones, but still he would not give up. When he felt too weak to even sit, he allowed himself to lie beside Isabela in the snow, telling himself it'd only be for a moment, that she only needed another minute and then he'd heal. Unfortunately, after a few minutes, his eyes closed against his will and he knew immediately that he had waited too long because, as he drifted peacefully into the dark, he felt the icy breath of death on his face.

_A/N: Sorry for yet another short chapter. The holidays have really kept me busy lately and I haven't had much time for writing... okay, okay, Skyrim might have had something to do with that too. The next chapter will be up soon to make up for it though, promise. And as always, thanks for reading and reviewing! Without the lovely support from you all, I probably would have left this half finished long ago. Hawke and Isabela are lucky to have you all. =)_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: As promised, here's a much longer chapter up in record time. Hopefully it makes up for the much too short one. Enjoy!_

When Hawke opened his eyes again, he was greeted with the stars themselves. As he stared up into a dark landscape far above, he watched as they twinkled and then fell, floating weightlessly down to him. He felt their icy touch as they met with his skin and he couldn't help but wonder, if this was the afterlife, where were all his loved ones?

That's when he saw the same cold breath from before as it hovered above him. Dread filled him as he thought that maybe this wasn't a heaven after all, but some much darker place. He turned his gaze at the same time he heard the voice.

"Andraste's flaming ass, Hawke! I swear if you ever do that again-"

"Isabela," Hawke rasped in amazement, interrupting her stream of curses and empty threats. He reached up and touched her cheek, the warmth of her skin burning his frozen skin. Isabela's eyes were puffy and red, still full to the brim with tears, which threatened to spill over as she continued her tirade. "What were you thinking? What the bloody hell did you do?" With so many thoughts and emotions coursing through her, Isabela finally settled on a single word to sum everything up.

"Shit."

"I think that about explains it," Hawke said with a weak smile.

Taking what seemed like her first breath since he'd woken up, she relaxed a little and nuzzled her face against his hand. As she closed her eyes, a single tear left a trail down her olive skin. Only allowing herself a moment to revel in the fact that they were both alive, for the moment, she reluctantly opened her eyes and broke the silence between them.

"Your skin is like ice," she said, running her fingers along the length of his arm.

"Having a blanket made of snow will do that, he joked weakly.

In no mood for joking, which said a lot about the direness of the situation, Isabela narrowed her eyes at him and gestured toward his other arm. He followed her gaze and looked at his wound for the first time since waking. Isabela had hastily tried to sew the flesh back together, but she was no Anders. The stitches were jagged and ugly, but they did what they were supposed to. He didn't appear to be losing any more blood.

"Who knows how much blood you lost before I came to," she said firmly. "You need to do that… blood thing and heal yourself."

Hawke cringed inwardly at her hesitance to refer to his newly acquired blood magic. Then again, he could hardly blame her. He could barely think about it himself.

He nodded to her and she helped him sit up. Focusing all of his energy on the new corpses surrounding them as he had before, he began to siphon the life from their bodies. He tried to read Isabela's expression as the blood filled the air, but her jaw was set, her expression unreadable. When it was finished, he felt as strong as before and his wound had healed, though the stitches remained. Their painful tug on his skin was a constant reminder that all that had transpired wasn't some horrible vision or dream, but a terrible reality.

Isabela was kneeling beside him, her face painted with worry. She saw that his wound was healed and he no longer needed to lean entirely on her to sit up, but still she wasn't sure what to expect. Sensing her uneasiness, Hawke lightly touched her cheek and pushed the tousled locks of her hair away from her face. He moved his face in and gently brushed his lips against her eyelids, softly trailing kisses down her cheek. Each subtle touch burned a hole in their resolve, breaking down whatever barriers were left to hold around themselves. The final walls came crumbling down when Hawke finally pulled Isabela against himself and crushed his lips against hers. His hunger for her touch was matched in full by Isabela as she pressed her body against him, forcing herself onto his lap. Hawke's fingers tangled themselves in her hair as she dug her nails into the skin on his back, aching to pull him even closer and never let go.

Gradually, the direness of their need for one another faded into a dull ache and, though their hunger was still ravenous, the rhythm of their embrace became softer and more subdued. Hawke's hand unraveled itself from Isabela's hair and moved slowly down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. The faint pain in his back subsided as she relaxed her grip on him and began tracing the contours of his muscles through the thick leather of his armor. Breathless and reluctant, Isabela pulled her face away from him.

"Hawke…" she said uncertainly.

Hawke's hands came to rest on her hips and pulled her closer to him. So much had transpired in such a short time… he wasn't sure how he could even begin to explain it. Much to his surprise, she didn't ask him to – at least not right then.

"What I said before, when I…"

She hesitated with the words. Hawke eyed her intently, the recollection of that moment burned into his mind in one beautifully horrific memory.

"Can we just pretend that didn't happen? You know, on account of me thinking I was dying and all."

When she caught the look on Hawke's face, she sighed and self-consciously tried to explain herself. "It's not that I didn't mean what I said. It just sounds _so_ much like something out of Varric's cheesy romance novels…" She waited for Hawke to interrupt her and spare her the embarrassment as he usually did in these instances, but he never did. He kept staring at her with that same indescribable look on his face. "Feel free to say anything, anytime here…" she said a bit irritably.

"Isabela…" He said her name so softly and with such feeling that it gave her goosebumps all over, though she wasn't sure why. "You don't remember?"

Confusion replaced her irritation. "Remember what? If you mean the blood magic, that was kind of hard to miss. Especially with that little encore that-"

"_You died_." His words were sharp as he interrupted her, though he didn't mean for them to be. Isabela's face froze, her expression a mixture of amusement and confusion, as if she didn't believe the words he was saying. Taking great care to soften his tone, he reiterated his point. "You died, Bela. I held you in my arms and felt the life leave your body. Everything that made you, _you_, was gone..." Being forced to relive such a fresh wound made Hawke feel sick and the pain it caused him was written all over his face.

"You're serious," Isabela said incredulously. His only response was that deeply pained stare he'd been giving her since they'd started the conversation. "I… I don't remember that. The last thing I remember was saying what I said. Then I woke up next to you…" Realization dawned on her as she finally put the pieces together. "That's why you were bleeding. You cut yourself and did some blood magic spell to bring me back, didn't you?"

"I couldn't let you die," Hawke said firmly. He realized then that, no matter how he felt about blood magic before, it was a part of him now. He hoped Isabela could understand that… because it had all been for her.

"You nearly killed yourself too! Bloody hell, Hawke." She shook her head in disbelief before sighing heavily. "I didn't want this," she said softly.

Hawke lowered his gaze. "I don't expect you to live with what I've done," Hawke said. "I couldn't let you die. I knew the price I had to pay for that. But it was my decision. Being a blood mage… I'll be hunted and hated even more than before. And I can't lie… the power of it is so intoxicating. This is dangerous, Isabela. I can't expect you to live with this burden."

Isabela firmly grasped his head and forced his eyes to meet hers. "Shut up, you big fool. That's not what I meant." Now it was Hawke's turn to look confused. "Mage or blood mage or bloody desire demon… I don't care what you are. You can't get rid of me that easy. None of that changes who you are. Not where it matters." She placed a hand on his chest, absorbing the beat of his heart as it drummed beneath her touch. She flashed him a grin that could belong to no one else. "There are a few other things blood magic can't change either." She ground her hips against him to make her point.

Hawke instinctively grabbed hold of her thighs as she coaxed the breath out of him. "You find out that you died and your lover is a blood mage and you're _still_ thinking about sex?"

Isabela giggled. "You're actually surprised?"

"No… the thing that surprises me is how _not_ surprised I am," he said with a chuckle.

"Oh dear… I hope I'm not becoming predictable. Wouldn't that just be so dreadfully boring?"

"I really don't think you could _ever_ be boring, love." Isabela lips pulled up in a self-satisfied grin.

Wondering how they got so far off track, Hawke finally remembered the initial question he had wanted to ask her.

"What did you mean then? About not wanting this?"

"Just when we were finally starting to have a bit of fun..." Isabela sighed as her smile dissolved. "I meant that I wish you hadn't had to make that sacrifice for me. I know how strongly you feel about blood magic. For you to sacrifice that piece of yourself for me…" Her words hung in the air, waiting to be finished, but she left them as they were, changing course instead. "If you keep up with these acts of heroism, I'll never stop being in your debt." She tried to finish with a joke, but Hawke could see right through her.

Hawke grabbed her hands and interlocked his fingers with hers, catching her eyes with his own as he gave a reassuring squeeze. "I know that I used to loathe blood magic, but when faced with no other options, it was the easiest decision I've ever made. And now… I don't hate it anymore. How could I possibly hate something that brought you back to me? I haven't fully come to terms with it all… but I don't regret it. Not for a second."

He gave her a heartening grin that she reluctantly returned with a nod. Hawke knew that she would make herself feel guilty for this no matter what he said. It was like she was constantly trying to prove that she wasn't worth his love. She'd said as much since the first night they spent together. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but even if it took him a lifetime, he was determined to prove just how wrong she was.

Leaping at the lull in heartfelt conversation, Isabela broke the silence almost a little too eagerly. "Well, as lovely as this little trip has been, I'd like to be somewhere that isn't covered in our blood… or frozen solid with snow, for that matter. It's more than a bit nipply here, if you haven't noticed."

Hawke's laughter echoed inside the cave. "I think you meant _nippy_."

"Did I?" Isabela responded coyly, a lascivious smile coloring her features.

"Maker, Isabela…" Hawke snickered with a shake of his head.

As they rose and gathered their weapons, Hawke made a point of checking the Raider leader while Isabela was busy looting one of the rogues. There was nothing on the body that told him why the Raiders wanted him or how they had found him in the first place, but he was certain he knew where he could get answers to both of those questions.

On the way back to town, Hawke explained in fuller detail the events that Isabela couldn't remember or wasn't conscious for. It was a stark contrast to the silent walk they'd taken on the way there. And despite the narrow trail down the mountain, neither one was willing to let the other out of grasp and instead held hands all the way down.

As they approached the edge of town, Hawke knew he had to act now if he ever wanted to get answers. He was more than a little reluctant to separate from Isabela, but he knew he was just being overprotective because of everything that had happened. He had to put his fears aside because he couldn't bear for her to know what he was about to do, let alone see it. He tried to blame the blood magic for this new darkness bubbling up inside of him, but he knew it was something that had been released the moment Isabela had been stolen from him, however briefly. He had felt it before. When his mother had been murdered by that necromancer, he'd been nearly consumed by it. He'd literally torn the mage in half with magic before Isabela was able to stop him and illuminate that hollow darkness with her light. But he didn't want to be stopped this time. He wanted whoever was responsible to feel the pain that he would always carry with him.

He spoke up just as they came upon the first house, using the words he'd been preparing in his head for the last hour. "I don't know if anyone will be looking for us in town. That Raider that escaped might have told the others that I wasn't dead. It'd probably be safest if we gathered our things and left as quickly as possible."

"You'll hear no complaints from me."

"Good… I'll get our things from the inn and you can make sure the crew and the ship are ready then." He couldn't even look at her as he spoke.

After a hesitation, Isabela replied as expected. "What? You want to split up when a bunch of murderous pirates are after you for Maker knows what reason? Did you get hit in the head?"

"Isabela, I need you to trust me. I'm far more conspicuous traveling with a feisty, pantless, pirate goddess."

"Ooh, 'goddess'. I like that," she interjected. Hawke ignored her commentary.

"_Especially_ when we're both covered in blood. I'll give you my armor so I can slip in and out-"

"I've heard that before."

"So I can _enter_ the _inn_ and _exit_ unseen," he said, emphasizing the replacement words in his sentence. Isabela frowned at his all-business attitude. "And you _know_ your crew won't be ready to sail. Half of them are probably drunk in the tavern by the port, especially that lot we saved with Tallis in Orlais. They're useless."

"Unless you want to be left here, I'd suggest you stop insulting my crew," Isabela said sorely.

"You know it's true. If we're to leave before the morning then you need to get everyone sorted."

"Fine, fine," she huffed. "You weren't this grumpy when we were dealing with the Qunari and they were _much_ scarier than the Raiders."

"The Qunari didn't _kill_ you," Hawke replied.

"Good point."

They stopped where they stood since that was where their paths would diverge. Isabela was going to veer off the path and head straight for port while Hawke was going to cut through back alleys to the inn and then to the ship. He quickly shed his armor and handed it to her.

"Maker, Hawke, how do you move in this? It weighs more than I do."

Hawke smiled in spite of his heavy heart. "It does not."

"Try not to get in any trouble," Isabela said, half joking, half serious. "I won't be around to save your ass this time." A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"I'll try," he replied sarcastically. After a hesitation, he added, "Isabela…"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

She laughed a little under her breath and leaned into him. "Where's the fun in that, kitten?"

Hawke couldn't bring himself to smile and instead drew her into a kiss, his need for her apparent as the embrace lasted far longer than either of them expected it to. When he finally pulled away, his expression was unreadable, but Isabela felt it in the way he kissed her; something was very wrong.

"Hawke?" she asked timidly.

He swallowed his guilt for actions he hadn't even committed yet. "I'm fine. It's just been a really long, strange day. We should get going."

Isabela eyed him suspiciously, but let it drop. "Okay… I'll see you soon."

"You will," he promised.

He watched Isabela head out of sight from a nearby alley before he headed off in the opposite direction. He could move much quicker without his armor on and he would need to. He also knew that Isabela would be slowed down by carrying his armor and that would give him more time to get back. Running nearly the entire way, he finally arrived at his destination half an hour later. As the quaint little house came into view, he felt his fury fill him once more and he knew it was far too late to turn back. Striding to the door like a man possessed, red eyes and all, he blew the door from its hinges with a burst from his staff. He stepped inside without hesitation and unleashed his darkness.


	16. Chapter 16

Hawke stormed through the door with such fierceness that Ronan and Katiana were caught completely off guard. They didn't even have time to react before Hawke waved his hand at Ronan, flinging the Rivaini against the wall and then suspending him in an agonizing prison of magic. Katiana quickly grabbed a dagger Ronan kept on a nearby shelf, but as she charged at Hawke he struck it from her hand and grabbed her by the throat, pinning her against the wall.

"I want to know why the Raiders came after me and how they knew we were going to be in that cave," he growled.

Tears poured from Katiana's eyes as she watched her lover writhe in pain against the wall adjacent to her. "I… I… I don't know what you're talking about," she cried meekly.

Hawke's jaw clenched tightly and, without turning his gaze from Katiana, he raised his staff toward Ronan. The man fell suddenly to the floor, limp and lifeless.

"Ronan!" Katiana cried desperately. At the sound of her voice, Ronan began to stir, but his movements were sluggish and he could barely sit up. Standing and defending the woman he loved was an impossibility.

"That's exactly how I felt when the Raiders surrounded us," Hawke said, looking at Ronan. "Isabela refused to let them take me in spite of being outnumbered."

"Please," Ronan begged weakly. "Don't hurt her."

"Do you think the Raiders listened to my plea for the same?" Hawke asked coldly.

"We didn't have a choice," Katiana insisted. "We didn't know they would hurt you."

"So Isabela died for your ignorance?" Hawke roared at her, the darkness he carried seeping through his words.

"I'm not dead, Hawke." Isabela's voice was full of so many things Hawke didn't want to hear; concern, fear, confusion, anger. Suspecting he was keeping something from her, she had stashed his armor and doubled back, following his trail to the Seer's house and, from what she could tell, had arrived just in time.

He let go of the hold he had on Katiana and turned to face her, his rage dissolving a little as he looked at her. Katiana immediately ran to Ronan's side.

"Isabela…"

"What in Andraste's giant ass are you doing? Have you lost your sodding mind?" The anger in her voice was palpable as her words hit him.

"I need answers," he replied hotly. "I need to know who did this to us and _why_."

"So you've resorted to _torture_? You never thought to, oh, I don't know… _ask them_ first?"

"They _killed_ you, Bela. I don't think a 'please' and 'thank you' is going to fix this."

"Something you seem to keep forgetting is the fact that I'm _not_ dead, Hawke."

"And look what that cost!" He shouted, his emotions taking over completely.

His comment stung Isabela. He saw her cringe the moment the words left his mouth, but it was too late to take them back. Isabela swallowed the lump in her throat and looked into the eyes of someone she didn't even recognize.

"I've followed you everywhere you've asked me to and let you make every decision without ever stepping in and challenging you, but I can't do that now. This isn't you. I said that blood magic couldn't change you, but maybe I was wrong. Because I don't know the person that would do this."

Her words poured into Hawke and burned a hole right through him. He felt the darkness in him wither a little as Isabela pinned him with her stare. He looked at Ronan and Katiana as they huddled together and felt a deep and overwhelming shame. Everything that had happened; the gruesome visions, the unusual Fade trip, the Raiders, Isabela, Isabela, Isabela… It was all about her. He felt the weight of it all as he slid down the wall and sat on the floor.

Isabela knit her brows as she glanced at Ronan and Katiana before focusing on her broken Champion on the floor. She approached and kneeled in front of him. Hesitantly, she reached for him, but pulled back, suddenly unsure how to handle the person she thought she knew better than herself. The only thing that was clear to her in that moment was just how tremendously her death, however brief, had truly impacted him. For all his smiles and jokes, there was a hole in him now that he'd filled with blood magic and vengeance because he couldn't figure out what else belonged there.

"You're right," he said hoarsely. "This isn't me…"

Isabela lightly touched her hand to his. His eyes were bloodshot when he finally looked up at her. "You don't understand this… this… thing inside of me. When mother died, you were the only thing to keep this darkness at bay. But when you died, I welcomed it like an old friend. I wanted to be enveloped in rage and revenge because then I wouldn't have to feel the pain anymore. And even though you came back, it didn't fully go away. I can hear its whispers even now. It revels in my rage."

Isabela's eyebrows shot up in concern as she listened to her lover's words. She looked to Katiana who looked equally as disturbed.

"Is he…" she began to ask, but Katiana was already answering her question.

"A rage demon," Katiana said, almost to herself. Then louder she added, "I think he's being influenced by a rage demon."

"What?" Isabela's eyes widened and she looked at Hawke suspiciously.

Ronan was sitting in a chair by the fireplace now, his strength slowly returning, with Katiana kneeling beside him. She looked at him and he nodded slightly, the two of them having some wordless conversation. Quickly she stood and cautiously approached Hawke and Isabela.

"Some demons can cross from the Fade into our world. They become shades of their former demonic selves, but in order to do so, they have to feed off the energy of people, often mages, in this world."

"And you think he's being eaten? Er, fed from?" Isabela asked.

"It makes sense," Katiana said. "Demons often prey on mages when they're vulnerable. He said he felt it when he lost someone he cared about."

Hawke, having been left out of the conversation so far, finally lent his voice to the discussion. "So this thing I feel is a demon's influence? Not blood magic? How can you get rid of it?"

Katiana looked surprised. "Me? I can do nothing. You have to close the door on it yourself."

"So… it's like anger management with a side of exorcism? How hard could that be?" Isabela added obligingly.

Hawke gave her a look that clearly said she wasn't helping.

"It's not something that can be done instantly," Katiana continued, looking from Isabela to Hawke. "Demons will always try to nudge their way into this world. Once one finds a weak spot, it will keep knocking on the door in hopes that you will someday open it. You've opened it just enough for the demon to feed off and incite your rage. The longer it's open, the harder it is to close."

"Well, Hawke's _really_ good at opening doors, but he always forgets to close them. Funny, I always thought it'd be a spider that got into our room. I never figured it'd be a demon getting inside of, well… him." Isabela was a slave to her own defense mechanism.

"Isabela." Hawke interrupted her nervous prattle. "You're not helping."

"Right," she agreed. "Maker, I'm turning into Merrill…"

"As I said," Katiana continued. "It's not as easy as flipping a switch or casting a spell. It will take time. I think it'd be best if you went with Isabela and put everything else out of your mind."

"No," Hawke objected. "I mean… okay. But I need to know what the Raiders wanted. We can't protect ourselves if we don't know what we're facing." Katiana backed away from Hawke a little and glanced at Ronan. Hawke could feel his anger bubbling beneath the surface, but he struggled to keep it in check.

"Please," he added.

Isabela grasped Hawke's hand and held on, anchoring them both to one another.

Ronan stood and weakly approached them, limping heavily on his left leg. Katiana immediately went to him and offered her support.

"I am sorry," he finally said to them. "We had no choice. The Raiders would kill us if we stopped being useful to them."

"Uh, do you want to elaborate?" Isabela said curtly.

Katiana spoke instead of Ronan. "Years ago, the Raiders began threatening me. They knew that people divulged some of their most intimate secrets to me and often that kind of knowledge leads to power or money, depending on how you use it. They said that if I did not tell them when something "consequential" came into my knowledge that they would kill me."

"So you started selling people out," Isabela accused. Hawke squeezed her hand in a gesture that told her to ease up, although he was struggling to control himself as it was.

"No, not then," Katiana replied. "My life was a small price to pay to keep the lives of many others safe... But then I met Ronan. We tried to keep our feelings a secret, but the Raiders eventually found out and when they did, they had the only leverage they needed. They said if I still refused to help them, they would kill him… eventually. But first they promised to torture him horribly for as long as they possibly could. What would you do in that situation?" Isabela's expression softened at this new revelation. "Ronan and I tried to come up with a means of escaping this place, but we knew that anyone who dared to take us would be slaughtered by the Raiders. Without a ship of our own, we had very little choice but to stay. So that's when I began feeding them information in return for our safety."

"Believe her when she says we tried to avoid all of this," Ronan added. "For years I've searched for a way to get her away from here, but the Raiders watch us closely. There has never been an opportunity that wouldn't cause more bloodshed."

"Okay…" Hawke said quietly. "But what about us? How do we fit into this scheme? We don't have anything of value with us."

"You're the Champion of Kirkwall," Katiana answered. "All of Thedas is searching for you. The Chantry has a considerable bounty on you, if you're brought to them alive. That last part was very specific. When Ronan and I found out who you were, we argued for hours about whether or not to turn you in."

"Obviously that didn't end in our favor," Hawke said dryly.

"I'm sorry, friend," Ronan replied. "Katiana stood up for you, but the risk to her was too great. If the Raiders ever found out that she'd let someone like you slip away, they would surely kill her. I couldn't take that chance so I told them myself."

At Ronan's mention of violence, Hawke suddenly recalled the bruises and burns on Katiana. "You don't tell them everything, do you?" he asked her.

Katiana stared at the floor timidly. "No."

Ronan exhaled sharply, anger marring his features. "They beat her when they find out she's kept something from them. And they always do it when they're making me work at their compound so I can't protect her."

"They would kill you if you tried," Katiana interrupted, clearly rehashing an old conversation.

"No, they wouldn't," Ronan said sharply. "I'm their only leverage against you." He sighed heavily. "That doesn't matter right now. There's nothing to be done about it."

"Yes, there is," Isabela said suddenly. She looked at Hawke, wordlessly communicating what she was thinking, but he only responded with a blank expression, obviously clueless as to what she could possibly be up to. "Oh, sod it. I have a ship. You need a way out of here. It's simple really." She shrugged.

Ronan and Katiana were amazed as they shared a look between them that held a hope they'd dared not hold onto for years. Hawke looked at Isabela with a mixture of pride and concern. "The Raiders are more likely to come after us if we do this, you know," he said to her.

"After that little display with the blood magic in the cave, I'd doubt it. As scared as that archer was, I'd bet his imagination has run away with that story. The Raiders probably think you have an evil twin that's part archdemon."

Hawke smiled. "True enough."

Isabela beamed at him, but quickly pursed her lips when she saw the look he was giving her. "Don't look at me like that. This is your damned influence at work," she said irritably. Her words only made Hawke smile at her even wider. Ignoring him, she looked up at Ronan and Katiana who still looked too stunned to believe what was being discussed. "Well, what do you say then?"

"You… you mean you want to help us?" Katiana asked. "After everything we've done to you?"

"Like you said, you had little choice in the matter," Hawke replied. "The Raiders are to blame, not you."

Ronan and Katiana both looked immensely grateful in a way that would stick with both Hawke and Isabela.

"We can never repay you for this," Ronan said earnestly.

"Truly," Katiana chimed in. "You have our deepest gratitude."

"Why don't we call it even on account of Hawke unleashing his inner demon on you?"

Hawke looked at Isabela grumpily, to which she replied with a shrug.

Ronan, finally returning to a semblance of the good-natured Rivaini Isabela had met before, broke the silence that followed her comment. "I was just hoping to swab your decks as repayment, but that sounds far more reasonable."

"Sorry," Isabela said with an amused grin. "Hawke's the only one who gets to swab my decks these days."

Katiana and Ronan exchanged smiles while Hawke sighed in the background.

"Maker, Isabela…"

Before the sun rose the next morning, Isabela's ship and all of her crew, including Ronan and Katiana, set sail from Llomerryn. They'd run into minimal trouble on their way to the ship, though they did have to dispatch with a few Raiders that had been tasked with trailing Ronan and Katiana.

Isabela had left a fake itinerary with the port master saying they'd be heading further into the Boeric Ocean when really they were heading toward Ferelden. She figured that would put the Raiders off of their scent long enough for them to make Ronan and Katiana disappear.

As Llomerryn faded in the distance, Hawke sat down on the steps on the deck of the ship and watched as Isabela went about her captain duties. The wind blew its frigid air all around them, but it didn't seem to faze her in the least. From across the deck, the moonlight illuminated her as she flashed him a quick smile which he couldn't help but return.

To his right, Ronan and Katiana stood at the railing, reveling in their newfound freedom. Ronan stood behind Katiana with his arms around her, holding a blanket over the both of them. Hawke was glad at least one good thing had come out of everything that had happened. Just before they headed below deck to their room, Hawke caught a glimpse of Isabela watching the lovers with a satisfied grin on her face. When she saw Hawke looking at her, however, her expression quickly faded and she returned to her duties as if nothing happened.

After what seemed an inordinate amount of time, Isabela finally swayed over to him, a grin he knew all too well planted on her face.

"I can't believe you waited out here this whole time, you goose."

"Who says I was waiting for you?" Hawke teased. "Maybe I just wanted to enjoy this _delightful_ weather we're having." His entire body shivered on cue.

"You big baby," Isabela said, shaking her head. "Lucky for you, I know a thing or two that will warm you right up." She grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet.

Hawke cocked an eyebrow at her. "Only two? Are you losing your touch?"

As she led him below deck, she glanced over her shoulder at him and grinned. "You can be the judge of that yourself, sweetness," she said with a wink.

The moment they entered the captain's quarters, Hawke came to a sudden stop just inside the door and yanked Isabela in his direction. She let out a yelp as her body flung against his chest and he immediately wrapped his arms around her, trapping her beneath his grasp. He beamed at her, happily declaring a small victory with his expression, to which Isabela giggled. As he leaned in to kiss her, she easily wriggled free of his arms and slipped behind him. With his weight still forward, she used his own balance against him and shoved him against their bed. She quickly shed her boots and then pounced on him. He turned in time to catch her, just as she knew he would, and then twirled around, pinning her beneath him on the bed.

"Give up yet?" he asked with a crooked grin that Isabela adored.

Her foot slid up the inside of his leg in response, forcing Hawke's attention on… other things. She moved her face close to his and brushed her lips against his ear before she whispered seductively, "Not. Even. _Close_." Before he could switch his focus, she hooked her leg around his and rolled him over, jockeying for her rightful position on top as she straddled his waist.

Hawke smiled gleefully as an all too familiar expression colored Isabela's features. "You know, I don't even mind losing this game," he admitted. "Not when smug suits those well-curved lips of yours so well."

Isabela's grin widened at his admission. "You know better than anyone that's not _all_ they're suited for," came her flirtatious reply.

Hawke grinned as he rose to meet her and she fervently assisted, tugging at his shirt until his lips began planting kisses along the length of her collarbone. She ran a hand through the back of his hair as his mouth moved ever lower and his hands higher, sliding her tunic from her skin as they traveled. He deliberately progressed at an agonizing pace, eliciting impatient whines from Isabela, until finally he pulled the fabric over her head and released her from the pesky material. She returned the favor, albeit at a much quicker rate, by tugging off his shirt followed by his boots and pants, after which she quickly reclaimed her position on top. Breathlessly, she crushed her body against him as she pulled his head up to meet hers.

"Isabela," he breathed raggedly, but she cut off whatever was about to come next.

"Shut your pretty mouth and kiss me."

Their teeth clashed as their lips met, neither of them able to wipe the smile from their face as they clawed to be closer to one another. Isabela giggled against his mouth, which only made Hawke smile wider. He felt her radiate him from the inside out and whatever remaining darkness he still carried dissipated. The demon he carried with him was gone, replaced with Isabela and all of her laughter and love. Hawke had never felt so whole. At that moment, the events of the day became nothing more than a distant nightmare that they would spend the rest of the night working hard to forget.

When morning found them, they were still wrapped in each other, a tangled mess of blankets and sheets intertwined with their arms and legs. Even in their sleep, they looked completely and wholly contented. And though the world would be waiting for them when they awoke, they would face it head on, _together_.

_A/N: Well, that's it. I hope you all enjoyed it! I just want to thank everyone so much for the continued support. I never would have finished this without you guys. You all seriously deserve a chocolate bar or something. Thanks for being so awesome. =)  
_

_As for my take on Hawke and Isabela, I'm toying with the idea of adding an epilogue that would open this up to a much more lighthearted sequel or one shot. I'm not sure yet though. We'll see..._


	17. Epilogue

Varric rounded the familiar corner in Lowtown and eagerly approached The Hanged Man. He'd just come from dinner with Aveline, Donnic and Merrill at the guard captain's house and, while he enjoyed the company of his friends, he wasn't sure how many more tame dinner parties he could get through without cleaning out Aveline's entire liquor supply. He didn't even have that damn, broody elf to drink with since he always found a way out of going. It was times like these when he missed Hawke and Isabela the most.

As he pushed his way into the tavern, he almost didn't notice his name being called by Norah from across the way. Absentmindedly he changed course and headed in her direction, flashing a smile as he walked.

"I already told you, Norah. I can't reveal the ending of a book I haven't written yet. I've barely come up with a name."

"That's not why I called you, but I _did_ want to ask you that. What was the name again?"

"_Red-Hot for Rogue: An Apostate's Tale_," Varric answered, enjoying a private joke.

"That's right!" the waitress squeaked. "You'll start writing it soon, won't you?"

"My dear, I make no promises. You can't rush perfection, after all."

Norah rolled her eyes at his response. "Anyway, _this_ came for you today." She slid an envelope across the bar to him. His name was written in an elegant hand across the front. As he flipped it over, he noticed a lip print across the seal. A smile crept onto his face.

"Do you know who it's from?" she asked curiously.

He left a few coins for her as thanks. "I have a pretty good idea," he called back jovially as he headed to his room.

Varric removed his boots and jacket and started a fire in the fireplace before settling into his favorite chair. He pulled a dagger from beneath his belt and carefully sliced open the letter. His suspicions about its sender were confirmed within reading the first three words.

"_My Dearest Bianca,_

_How is my favorite woman this side of Ferelden? And Varric? Has he been treating you well? I hope he hasn't been manhandling you too much. I still think a woman's touch is just what you need. Poor Varric would get over your loss eventually, but you'd be much happier in my hands, I promise."_

Varric paused his reading to pet Bianca on the table in front of him. "Don't listen to her, darling. She's just trying to confuse you." His eyes returned to the letter in his hands.

"_How has Kirkwall been without us? Terribly boring, I'd imagine. I bet Aveline doesn't know what to do with herself! Luckily for her, Hawke and I will be able to remedy that soon. _

_We picked up Varric's letter a few days ago from the tavern in Llomerryn that we told him we'd check. We won't be going back there anytime soon though so I hope he didn't send any more there. Things got a bit… messy. It's a long story, really, but the short version is… Hawke's a blood mage now, I died and he had a demon nearly possess him. Don't worry. I wrote the best bits down for you to read when we get there. Since Varric said only a handful of Seekers have stayed behind in Kirkwall, and everyone in Thedas wants to capture Hawke for the Chantry's sodding bounty, we figured we might as well come home. At least we have people to watch our backs there. More importantly, Feast Day is soon and Hawke said he'd rather not spend it in some random tavern with a bunch of strangers who smell of their own vomit. Not when we can come to The Hanged Man and get that same aroma from friends! _

_We have to make a special delivery in Ferelden first, but then we'll be on our way. If everything goes to plan, expect us a few days after you receive this letter. _

_Isabela_

_P.S. I can't believe I forgot… Hawke bought me __pants__ in Antiva. I thought I'd hate them. He practically had to force me into them the first time (an odd contrast to our usual fun), but I've been wearing them here and there for the past month now and they are surprisingly lovely. It's a nice change from having the icy wind roll off the ocean and right up my… well, you know."_

Varric chuckled to himself as he stood and read the letter again. Even with Isabela glossing over the details, there was a lot to take in. It sounded as if they'd managed to get into just as much trouble as ever. After the second time through, he looked up and shook his head in disbelief.

"Isabela… in _pants_! No one will believe me when I tell them."

_A/N: Stayed tuned for a new story. I promise it will be angst free and everything! (hopefully...)_


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